


Nightmare Walking

by fluffy_papaya



Series: Fairytale AU [2]
Category: Banana Bus Squad
Genre: M/M, Multi, Sequel, Swans, and somewhat traumatizing, fairytale AU, its gay, moolificent, sorry brock, transformation spells, you need to read the previous story to understand
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2020-10-18 21:23:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 19
Words: 52,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20645882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluffy_papaya/pseuds/fluffy_papaya
Summary: The evil king has been vanquished, happiness rules through the kingdom under Ohm’s rule, Luke next to him and Brock watching from the shadows. But wounds aren’t healed as easily as happily ever after, and what happens when they don’t heal all the way?





	1. Mirror Mirror Without a Body

**Author's Note:**

> also: yes, kacie is writing this one with me but currently can’t add her as a shared creator and I don’t know why- I’ll fix that later

It took a month after the wedding, Ohm and Luke taking a week long honeymoon and strolling back into the castle with big smiles and a stack of magic books for Brock to look through. The royal advisor was glad to take the multitude of books, flipping through them to find the final part of the spell he would need. 

The annoying part of the spell Craig had put on Mark was it was a spell meant for spirits and ghosts, helping them communicate with their loved ones. They never had a body to go back to once the spell was released, and therefore could escape once the mirror was shattered. 

But they had found Mark’s body- albite cold and still, and it was clear that he could go back to it. 

The only question remaining was  _ how _ .

Sitting with their comatose friend- settled nicely in a glass coffin (Ohm's idea once again; this time for  _ aesthetics _ ). Brock kept looking over to him as he read the through the books- Mark actually keeping him company as he appeared in the face of the mirror- having gotten used to seeing his body without him in it.

Ohm brought him cookies at some point- munching on a few as he handed the plate over; earning a bit of a glare from the advisor.

"Really?"

"That two weeks did not stop me from liking cookies."

"I purposely haven't been stress baking to avoid this, Ohm."

“To avoid what? Good food?” Ohm tapped a cookie against his lips. “You can still eat something sweet and stay in shape, pal.”

Brock sighed, pushing the plate to the edge of the table. “Thank you for the cookies, but I’ll pass.”

The king sighed and rested his chin on Brock’s shoulder, the pudginess slightly fading from his face. “What’re you stuck on?”

“Trying to find how to raise the dead.” Moo only half-joked. “Want to help?”

"Tempting..." Ohm moved from Brock's shoulder to the floor completely, grabbing at one of the books with his non cookie holding hand. "I do have a lot of paperwork I don't want to do."

"Perfect!" Mark exclaimed, coming into view from the edge of the mirror with a broad grin. "Finally some decent company-"

"Hey!" 

"Kidding, kidding." Dark brown eyes flickered towards the plate. "You save a cookie for me, Ohm?"

“I mean, I can’t promise it won’t be stale, but sure.” The king laughed and scooched one of the cookies to the center of the plate. “Hey, Mark?”

“What’s up?”

“Mirror Mirror on the wall-“

“Jesus Christ Ohm  _ not again _ -“

“Who’s the fairest of them all?”

“Brock.” The mirror instantly answered. “Still.”

The advisor sighed, but hid his smile in his book, flipping through the pages. “Ohm, stop forcing him to answer questions.”

“Are you advising me or asking me?” Ohm laughed, but still reached up to pat the edge of the mirror in apology. 

They spent the next hour browsing through books, marking pages they thought could be of help, until Brock let out a call of victory.

"AHA!" He held up the spellbook and clambered to his feet- swaying his hips in a little victory dance, skirt swishing with the action. Brown and green eyes followed his movement, each filled with excitement and adoration.

"I can do the spell! I know exactly what I need to do! Ha ha ha ha ha ha!" 

"You're a dork." Ohm said, though pride swelled deep in his chest as his friend danced around the room- twirling around the mirror with such grace that made Ohm quite sure he was the fairest of them all.

“So what if I am?” Brock teased. “I still know more magic than you.”

“That’s not fair!” Ohm immediately protested, but him and his pout were drowned out by the wave of giggles from the mirror and the ex-prince. 

“Okayokayokay!” Brock gushed, finger landing in the center of the book. “Uh, looks like I’ll need some ingredients for a salve, but the spell itself is pretty simple.” Hazel eyes scanned the pages, his smile breaking into a smirk. “Ingredients... blood from the spellcaster, sunflower seeds.” He paused.

Ohm leaned in eagerly at the smirk that crossed his friend’s face. “What else?”

“A dragon scale and a werewolf hair. Those are the other two ingredients. We’re the luckiest people alive!”

"I feel very lucky." Mark deadpanned, causing Ohm to break into titters of laughter; Brock's face going red a bit.

"Okay so being trapped in a mirror isn't great but I can get you out- and you should preserve your youth if I do this right." He turned to Ohm- already with the charm and pouty eyes on thick. "Can you go get the ingredients while I start the ritual? Please? I need to do a lot of arts and crafts with my blood here."

Ohm swooned at the sight of the Brocky dog eyes, cooing at Brock as he rushed out of the study. Brock giggled, Mark clucking his tongue. 

“You’re way too good at that. It scares me.”

“It comes naturally.” The advisor shrugged, and winked as he sliced open the pad of his thumb with a paper cut. In hindsight, it was probably a terrible idea, but it worked for the moment, Brock sliding open the glass coffin to smear the blood on Mark’s forehead in a circle.

"I've got cooties now, thanks Brock." The man commented- and after all this time spent with the seer, he was really starting to understand why Jack liked the guy so much.

The prince did a few more dots and runes on his skin, humming some cheery tune under his breath before he responsed to the mirror.

"I don't have cooties- and even if I did aren't they transmitted by kissing anyways?"

"Well if that's the case then maybe I  _ want  _ cooties."

Brock scoffed, leaning down and pressing a kiss to Mark’s hand, making eye contact with the mirror as he did so. “Does that satisfy his royal court wizard?”

The mirror retreated back a bit, face hidden by the reflective surface around him. “Fuck.”

The advisor giggled, squeezing his thumb a bit to dab polka dots of blood down Mark’s color bone. “Mirror mirror on the wall-“

“Oh, not you too-“

“Who’s the cutest of them? I’d say you.”

"I'm not legally obligated to answer-"

"Oh  _ mirror mirror _ ~" He sang, twirling back over to the spellbook. "I asked you a question."

"And I'm biased!"

"Fine then, don't answer it." Brock started muttering some incantations that ended the topic rather quickly- and distantly the prince wondered why it was taking Ohm so long to return.

“Toonzy, I have to get back to Brock-“

“But you smell so good.” Luke muttered, burying his nose into his husband’s hair. Yellow eyes were blown wide even as they narrowed, the scent of winter pine filling his (almost) full moon sensitive nostrils. “Can’t let you leave.”

“Luke.” Ohm said patiently, twisting out of the were’s grip, a thick piece of jet black hair clutched in his hand. “I’ll be back tonight to help you get to the dungeons if it gets too bad, okay?”

“Can I at least get a kiss before you go, Red?” Luke asked, and the pathetic  _ whine  _ that left his lips tugged on Ohm’s heartstrings. 

“Fine, one kiss and then I really need to go.”

One kiss seemed to turn into two; Luke not quite ready to get rid of the intoxicating taste of Ohm's pretty lips. Two turned into three, Ohm's hands fisting softly in the front of Luke's shirt; feeling silk and muscle in one grip.

They got... distracted- the hair, pearlescent scale and seeds forgotten on the bedside table as Ohm fell victim to the werewolf's charm.

It was an hour later Ohm was scurrying back into the study, hair and clothes mussed and wrinkled as he deposited the ingredients on the table with a sigh. 

Brock gave him an incredulous look as he did so, paper cut long since healed and blood long since dried. “Seriously?”

“It’s the full moon tomorrow.” Ohm weakly defended, a flush rising to his cheeks. “He can’t help himself.”

“You can.” Brock muttered, but a small smile pulled at his lips as he swiped the ingredients off the table.

"I really can't," A shrug accompanied with a laugh, Ohm smiling through the blush as he sat down on a free chair, making sure his pants and shirt were hiding the hickies and scratches. 

He caught Mark's gaze in the mirror and figured the lovebites weren't hidden well enough if the waggled brows had anything to do with it, the king cursing quietly under his breath as he watched Brock work his magic (literally). 

"Your boy toys still at Brian's castle?"

"Uh huh, duty calls." His magic wavered a bit but Brock reeled it back in. "You're distracting me Ohm."

“Sorry. You missing them?”

“They’ve been gone ever since you guys went on your honeymoon.” Brock said softly, and the golden magic flickered. He shook his head, steadying himself. John’s scale was clutched in his grasp, and he set it so it acted as a bowl to the sunflower seeds he gently dropped in. They were quickly ground into a pulp, Brock slicing his thumb open again to mix the blood with the seeds.

He then took the hair, gently laying it overtop of the alchemy mix, and Ohm could only watch in awe as more magic poured from his hands; flowing steady as a river as hurried over to Mark's body. The scale was placed in the center of the bloody circle; right on Mark's forehead- the scale immediately burning hot as soon as it touched the skin.

He muttered more of the incantations, more song than spell as the words were spoken softly under his breath. 

The mirror shattered once more; Ohm squeaking as he dove for cover away from the shards.

He peeked out when he heard the clinking of mirror shards finally settle, the king looking with wide green eyes at the sight before him. 

The body had sat up straight, brown eyes blown wide and popping thanks to the contrast of dried blood. Shaky hands ran themselves through his hair, and Ohm watched with amazement as Mark- the  _ real  _ Mark, not his face in a mirror, let out a shaky laugh. 

“Holy shit.”

“Welcome back.” Brock said, wincing as he pulled a small shard out of his arm. “How’s life so far?”

"Not too bad." The wizard laughed, maybe a bit too enthusiastically but neither Ohm nor Brock would judge. He swung his legs over the side of his makeshift coffin and shakily planted his feet on the ground, cold stone and unused limbs making it a bit hard to stand; but he managed, grinning brightly despite the awkwardness and pain that settled heavy in his bones.

Brock and Ohm quickly rushed him, steadying their new old friend as he wobbled a bit, a deep laugh escaping his lips. 

“I’m good, guys. Just a bit of a headache.”

“You’ve been trapped in mirror for... how long? You shouldn’t be standing.” Ohm mothered, taking over Brock’s role briefly as the advisor pulled glass from his body. “And just a headache? You’re shaking.”

"With excitement!" 

"And probably dehydration." Brock muttered, hissing when another shard was plucked from his back- this time from the hands of their king."Can we do this later, Ohm?"

"I can multitask!" The king swore vehemently keeping a firm arm still around Mark too as he picked another shard of glass out despite Brock's protests.

“Help Mark first- I can help myself.” Brock said softly, and Ohm pursed his lips, pulling out a particularly jagged piece. 

“I can help myself as well, guys.” Mark said, amused expression on his face. “You two sound like my parents.”

The king and his advisor both flushed red with embarrassment, exchanging glances. 

“Fine. I’ll help him.”

“Thank you.” Brock said, and continued tugging his own shards out.

Brock pulled away for a moment- letting Ohm take lead and help Mark around the room, heading off quickly down the hall to see if he couldn't fill the basin and wash the blood from his shoulders.

The king had gotten Mark to the point where he could comfortably walk on his own- at least for now. If he used some magic to boost hinself up Ohm didn't say a word, just smiling and sending encouraging words Mark's way. 

"You wanna take a stroll with me, Mr. Wizard?"

“That’s Mr. Seer to you, peasant.” Mark said pompously, and it sends them both off into giggles. “Where to?”

“Outside? It’s summer, after all.”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea.” Mark blinked a few times shaking his head. “Woah.”

Ohm had already started to lead him out of the room, but paused to look back at his friend. “What’s up?”

“Vision? I think?”

"You  _ think _ ?"

"It's been a while since I've been in my own body, give me a break." The grip on Ohm's upper arm tightened ever so slowly- Mark's face going a bit red; from exertion or the vision, Ohm wasn't sure.

"Huh."

"Well?"

"I-" Mark paused, his fluffy hair bouncing everywhere as he shook his head- as if trying to clear the vision from his head. "I'd wash up before seeing your husband."

“What?” Ohm moved his hand to a comforting grip on Mark’s shoulder. “What does that mean?”

“I can’t interpret visions, just give them.” Mark muttered, and blinked furiously. “Just- take a bath, okay?”

Ohm frowned but agreed, shoving that interesting fact to the back of his head as he helped Mark to the door outside. 

It was  _ beautiful  _ outdoors, sunshine gleaming down hot on them, yet a cool breeze still tickled their skin. Mark bathed in it all, tan skin lit up by the rays of sun.

With a happy grin the wizard fell onto his back, letting warm grass cushion his fall as he titled his head back- smelling flowers and dirt and everything he had missed during his entrapment in the mirror. He felt a body fall next to him a moment later, turning his head with a bright laugh when he saw Ohm joining him.

"You see that cloud up there?"

"Uh huh."

"Pretty sure its shaped like a boner."

There was a brief second before Ohm burst into giggles, scandalized as he pushed at Mark. 

“First thing you do when you get out of your mirror is make a dick joke? Can’t wait to get to know you better.”

The seer arched his back like a cat to take in more sun, stretching out in the grass. “I mean, I know you pretty well. Wait, no, that sounds really creepy-“

The king just shoved him again, soft laughs falling from his lips. 

“You’re an idiot. No wonder Jack considered you family. It must run in the blood.”

"Best friends are idiots together," The man joked, turning a bit away from Ohm- expression unreadable with the angle and the glare from the sun; which was probably going to burn them if they didn't head for the shade in a bit.

Ohm wasn't worried; knowing he'd just havr another healthy sprinkling of freckles on his cheeks and shoulders the next morning.

They stayed in silence for a few good minutes, peaceful and calm as they looked up at the clouds with content expressions.

Until Brock sped out into the garden, a gleeful expression on his face as he bounded over to them.

"Guys!" He called, and Ohm quickly propped himself up to look at his friend. Moo was waving at them with the same spell book they had found the spell in before, cleaned of all glass wounds. "You'll never guess the cool spell I just found!"

"Cool spell, huh?" Mark asked, lifting his head so he could properly see the prince fast approaching. "It better not be a truth spell; Craig already dicked me over with that one. Not sure if it wore off now that I'm back, actually."

Ohm turned to him with mischief in his eyes- Mark's own widening ever so slightly in fear as Brock continued walking over.

"Let's see if you're still cursed!"

"Ohm  _ don't you dare your royal pain in my ass _ -"

"Mirror Mirror on the wall," Ohm quickly said before Mark could stop him, dodging the hand aiming to cover his mouth. "Who's the fairest of them all?"

"Brock." Mark said immediately, brown eyes narrowing at the king. "Oh, you motherfucker-"

"Mirror Mirror on the wall, who do you find to be the cutest of them all?"

"Brock." Mark said again, a plead in his eyes that had Ohm laughing manically. 

"Okay, we'll figure out a way to take that off of you. Brock, what did you find?"

The prince blushed as he heard the last bit of the conversation, hiding dark cheeks in the pages of his spellbook.

"A uh. Spell of invisibility- that can be cast on objects or people. I don't see a counter spell to it; so that's kind of an issue if I were to cast it on a person..." He bookmarked the page anyway before the books snapped shut, Brock carefully tucking it under his arm before gently taking a seat next to the others on the grass; almost immediately surrounded by a few woodland creatures.

"I mean, that's pretty useful for hiding things like towers." Ohm commented, reaching out to scratch a fox on the head. "Or weapons."

"Ew." Brock made a face, leaning into Mark as he looked up at the sky. "I'm not a weapons person, thank you very much. Also, imagine how weird that would be- you could grab your sword by the blade and hurt yourself!"

The seer blushed faintly, brown eyes snapping to a smug Ohm. "That actually sounds pretty funny."

"You know who would agree with me?" Brock sat up to send a brief glare Ohm's way before he settled back down. "Gorilla. Polite demon, sweet as pie. He's sensible. I miss him-"

"You only like him so much because he's a mom friend just like you!" 

"You take that back." Hazel eyes held no malice even with he glare, the prince trying his damned hardest not to crack a smile.

"Mom friend." Ohm sang. "Momma Brock. Momma Moo." His green eyes lit up. "Mooma."

"Stop." Brock weakly protested, failing miserably at holding back his smile. "Otherwise I'll tell Luke where you're ticklish."

The king gasped. "You wouldn't."

"I could go tell him right now, I'm sure he would appreciate that the day before a full moon."

The two best friends dissolved into bright laughs and smiles, an unknown joke shared between them as Mark was left utterly bewildered. He had a lot to catch up on, it seemed, and it also seemed he wasn't going to do it today, Ohm standing up and stretching out.

"Speaking of Toonzy, I promised to go check in on him tonight." He held up his hand before Mark could say anything. "And yes, I'll take a bath before, even if I still don't know why. Talk to you guys later?"

"Course," Brock sent a smile his way; one that was probably  _ too  _ friendly- and Ohm should have guessed the little shit was up to something. "I'd say I'll see you for dinner but I'm sure you'll be busy tonight eating something else-" 

"BROCK."

"Bye Ohm!"


	2. Mirror Mirror Fall in Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y’all want some fucking romance y’all will GET some fucking romance

The king had no choice but to scurry off to soft laughter, ears red as he heard the final teasing remark from Brock- " _ Good boy _ !", opening the castle door and sliding into the study. Thank god there was a basin on this floor. 

Even with cold water, it still felt good to get the small amounts of blood off of him, as well as the scent of wild grass.

He quickly scrubbed himself down, cursing when he realized he didn't have a spare change of clothes that wasn't slight;y bloody as well- and those were left in the washroom in a neatly folded pile. A towel wrapped around him, Ohm quickly darted upstairs, staying out of sight of his staff.

He made it to the king's quarters in record time, knocking softly on the door.

"Toonzy? You in there?"

The door was nearly thrown open- Ohm dragged inside by sharp and rough hands before it was slammed shut once more- his husband suddenly in front of him and twitching nervously as the moon's unseen hold started to shake him. 

"Toonzy? You okay pupper?" 

"I-I'm fine." Rushed words and jittery hands- a glance upwards showed tuft ears pressed flat against his head.

"Hey." Ohm placed a hand on Luke's cheek, the were quietly panting into the touch. "No shame in locking yourself up a day early, sometimes there are just bad shifts."

Luke whined, a pitiful, drawn out thing as he pressed himself into Ohm, ducking down so he could feel secure in his husband's embrace. "You smell really good."

"I took a bath before I came here." Ohm whispered, stroking the dark fur of Cartoonz's ears. A sharp nip at his collarbone had him squeaking, glancing down to see yellow eyes blown out wide, pupils almost slitted. "Okay, we're getting you down the cage."

"I want to stay with you." Luke mumbled, a wet nose poking into Ohm's neck. "Pretty Red."

"I'll sit with you down in the cellar, okay? But I think you're just a bit... wound up, love." As he spoke Ohm disentangled himself from Luke's crushingly tight grip, heart breaking at the sad whimper he got in response- once their bodies were no longer flush. "I know, I know. Lemme get dressed and we'll go downstaira, alright?"

A nod, Luke still whining and pacing as he tried to avoid ogling his husband- pale skin fully on display as the towel fell to the floor. The sound made Luke twitch but he held himself back- his nails digging into his palm with enough pain to make him concentrate.

Ohm was quickly dressed into something comfortable, cotton pants and a simple shirt and vest. He slowly walked over to Luke, the werewolf taking shallow breaths with every step Ohm got closer.

"You good to walk?" Red looked down at his shaking legs, concern in his eyes.

He got a whimper as an answer, his lover nosing towards him and scooping him up in a bridal carry. "Pup-"

"Just... let me carry you?" Luke whispered, and Ohm hesitated before nodding.

"If you think you can without overexerting yourself."

"I can." Ears twitching, Luke took a long inhale of his mate's scent. "Do- do you want anything down there?"

"I have a book I need to read." The king pointed to his small bookshelf, the wolf hurrying him over there so he could grab the leather bound book. "Okay, now to the cellar?"

He had to pat Luke twice before his voice was listened to, his husband quietly stuttering out a shaky apology before he started to move, padded feet quiet on the stone.

Ohm was kept flush against Luke's chest as they walked down the hall, legs and back supported by strong arms- ones that only squeezed him closer as they got closer to the cellar.

Luke paused outside the door, yellow eyes glazed as he stood in front of the wood. A quiet huff escaped his chest, puffing against Ohm.

"Red?"

"Yes, love?"

"I don't want to put you down."

Ohm couldn't help but preen- his heart fluttering at just how sweet his husband could be (vicious werewolf my ass). 

"I know, but we gotta get down the stairs- oh, here." Ohm managed to get to his feet, quickly grabbing Luke's clawed hand before the werewolf could protest. He squeezed it as tightly as he dared and opened the cellar door. "C'mon, I'll be with you the whole time, okay?"

"I-" A shaky inhale, yellow eyes flickering. "Okay."

He trusted Ohm more than anything in his entire life- and together they descended down the spiral stone steps, Ohm letting his free hand travel over the textured rock walls as they made their way down to the now rarely used dungeon.

The stairway echoed their footsteps, Ohm’s heavy in comparison to the soft padding of Luke. It soon became the only thing both of them could hear, feet hitting against stone harshly. Their hands squeezed together, claws pricking into soft flesh, but neither minded, nor when they were together. 

Ohm opened the door. 

Luke was at his back as they walked into the dungeon, a whine building on his lips as they passed the cells, finally reaching the one with a small barred window.

It wasn't a fancy inn or their cozy bed upstairs- but Ohm had done his best to make it as homey as he could; a few quilted blankets, a water dish and a few things Luke could play with in the cell. Ohm swung the door opened and gestured inside with a small smile- but Luke didn't move an inch from where he was plastered against Ohm's back.

"Toonzy, I'll be right here, love."

The whine reached its crescendo, Luke burying his face into Ohm’s hair. The king felt his heart break a little when he shuffled forward until he was in the cage too, gently disentangling his husband from him and stepping out of the cell. 

He quickly locked the door, green eyes meeting big, sad, yellow ones. 

“I love you.” He whispered, and held his hand through the bars. Luke was quick to snatch it up, holding his hand as they both slid down to sit.

Luke didn't speak much after that- he really just wanted Ohm's presence, and listened to his husband read aloud in his book; the soft tones of Ohm's voice soothing his aching bones and heightened senses until all he could think about was Ohm's pretty voice as he dozed off.

Ohm laughed softly at the sight of the sleeping werewolf, standing up to go and grab the cot they had moved down here for nights like this. His backside yelled at him for sitting on stone for so long, but he paid no mind to the pains in his own body when he was sure it was a thousand times worse for his love. 

He quickly fell asleep to the sound of rumbling snores, a dopey smile on his face as his eyes closed, letting him rest.

Brock was right about one thing; Ohm didn't make it to dinner on time, thankfully for more PG reasons though. The prince set down an extra plate for Ohm anyways, knowing full well he'd be up at some point for food once Luke calmed down a bit. The plate was set down on the long dining hall table which was horrendously empty- since Anthony was at Tyler's kingdom, Smitty and John were outside having already ate, and the kings were in the cellar. 

"Sorry about the uh, lack of company; things are usually more lively around here." Brock apologized, wiping his hands on his apron after he set food in front of Mark. "Ohm should be up in a few if my timing is correct."

“Don’t worry about it.” Mark laughed. “Any company is better than none.”

The advisor still flushed pink, sitting in his seat next to the seer. “You should’ve had more of a welcome party- we just got you out of your mirror.”

“Brocky, it’s fine.” The nickname slid off Mark’s lips without a second thought, and his tan skin darkened a bit. “Sorry.”

"No it's- it's alright." Brock leaned over the table to grab the bottle of wine, pouring himself a small glass. "You've heard the nicknames Ohm calls me, I don't think you could come up with anything worse."

"Are you sure there's nothing worse than 'Mooma'?"

"Nope," A bright laugh from Brock, who had to pause to drink his wine. "But I'm sure Ohm'll prove me wrong."

"I'll prove you wrong about what?" They both turned to the door, watching their king stumble to the table. His clothes and hair were rumpled, but nothing else seemed to be off about him. He eyed the extra plate, quickly moving to that seat.

"Nothing." Brock said, winking at Marl. The wizard winked back, maybe a little exaggerated. 

"Sure." Ohm yawned and stretched out before digging in, pausing to look at his friends. "Sorry about being late to dinner, had to lock Toonzy up for the night."

"Kinky," Brock giggled, grabbing the wine bottle once more to pour his friend a glass, ignoring the incredulous look he got in response. "What? Red is good for your heart."

"I know I am."

"I meant wine."

"I know what you  _ really  _ meant." With that statement Ohm started digging in- a little dissapointed at the lack of red meat but happy to see them all eating seafood (it really only happened when Jonathan was back at his kingdom- for obvious reasons).

Mark was already halfway through his plate, grinning at his first meal in years. "Brock, this is amazing."

"It's nothing, just a simple recipe." Brock waved his hand around nonchalantly. "I'm glad you like it, though."

He ignored Ohm's snickers, taking a gulp of red wine to hide his blush.

They passed the rest of dinner with quiet chatter about friends and people, and somewhere along the way moved to the longue, all three of them on one couch as they talked.

Ohm, ever the lightweight, was a happy mess as he babbled on and on- the other two watching in amusement as their king went on and on, mostly about Luke as he leaned heavily on Brock. 

"And he's soft, and he's my husband- and I love him. I love him a lot. I'm gonna burn our marriage paper so he- so he can't return me."

"He loves you just as much, buddy." Brock patted his friend's leg. "And I think burning your paper is a  _ terrible  _ idea."

"I love him." Ohm sang in a little tune, repeating the words as he stared at the small fireplace. "I can't believe he would marry me, he's so sweet. My puppy protector. Did you know he's got a scar over one eye? It makes him look really hot."

"You think everything he does is hot." Mark pointed out, slinging an arm over the back of the soft couch, fingers scratchindly idly at the stuffed fabric.

"I do!" More giggles from the king, whose green eyes were slowly closing as he kept speaking.

"You want us to help you to bed, buddy?" Brock eventually asked, gently moving Ohm so he was sitting upright on the couch.

"What? You want me gone, Mooooma?"

"I want you to be well rested for your husband." Brock ducked under Ohm's arm, lifting the king up and motioning with his head for Mark to follow. They winded through the stone halls, moonlight shining between windows as they passed, and Ohm slowly fell asleep in his friend's arms, Brock and Mark's quiet chatter lulling him to sleep.

"He's adorable." Mark said, laughing when they tucked him into bed and the king instantly started snuggling the pillow. "I'd probably steal him if it weren't for his husband."

"Luke would  _ definitely  _ kill you," Brock let out a chuckle, blowing out the small candle on Ohm's bedside table with the snap of his fingers. He closed the curtains and went to the washroom to grab a glass and some water from the basin, both motherness and servitude engrained in his bones.

He and Mark exited once everything was settled, the door closing quietly behind them as the duo went into the dimly lit corridor.

"So." Mark started, letting the silence of the castle wash over that small word until Brock realized he wasn't going to say anything else.

"So?"

"If you just got out of a mirror, what would be the first thing you did?" Mark leaned against the wall. "I ate some food, went outside, but now I'm sorta at a loss on what to do. Having a body is  _ weird _ ."

"Hm, well..." Brock smoothed out his dress as he thought, silk sliding under his palms- nerves making him sweat a bit. "It's kind of late now for a walk in the woods; there's dancing! But I'm biased..." 

"Dancing sounds really nice." Dark eyes flickered to the floor before they met Brock's gaze once more- a charming but shy smile on his lips. "But I do need a partner?"

Brock flushed, hiding his face in his shoulder, stammering out the first part of his answer. "I-I me-mean, you don't  _ really  _ need a partner, you could always dance on your own."

"Where's the fun in that?" Mark's shy smile stayed in place as he leaned closer to Brock, hands coming up to meet the advisor's. "Teach me how to dance, Brocky."

"Okay." Brock squeaked, and he giggled nervously as he led them away from the wall. 

He made sure Mark's hands were in the right place for leading- a wam hand sitting on his waist, the other clasping his own. The prince was still blushing- at the contact or the charm, he wasn't sure. But it was nice... and he really had to stop attracting cute guys with pretty smiles. 

"Do we need music?" Mark asked with a quirked brow. "I do know you can sing, before you try to pretend you don't."

Brock mumbled under his breath before sighing, opening his mouth.

The tune that poured out was a wordless one, barely a hum but still surrounding in the hall.

Brock started the dance, leading Mark in a simple waltz, back, side, forward side. The man picked it up pretty quickly, stepping in time with his partner until they were on time with Brock's song.

Mark made the first move of swaying them down the hall, smile bright with pearly teeth shining in the moonlight filtered through stained glass. It seemed no one else was up in the castle, their footsteps, singing and laughter echoing through the lomg stretches of corridors.

"I know the song has words, you're holding out on me!"

"How would you know?" The advisor challenged, pausing when he was twirled before they met back in position.

"You've sang it before," Soft eyes, like melted chocolate and wood grains. "When you were trying to fix me. How did it go again?" Mark cleared his throat a bit, eyes closing briefly as he tried to remember. _ "A dream is a wish your heart makes- When you're fast asleep..." _

_ “In dreams you will lose your heartaches” _ Brock continued, instinctively. Mark’s eyes lit up. “Whatever you wish for, you keep”

_ “Have faith in your dreams and someday.” _ The seer muttered, and he grinned when Brock accepted his invitation to spin in his arms. “Your rainbow will come smiling through.”

_ “No matter how your heart is grieving,” _

_ “If you keep on believing,” _

They leaned together, Mark dipping Brock down in his arms, brown eyes meeting hazel. Their faces were barely an inch apart, and they quietly sang the final line together. 

_ “The dream that you wish will come true.” _

The note slowly tapered off, Mark grinning while Brock smiled shyly; hearts beating a million miles a minute. Lips close enough to nearly taste the sweet wine on their breaths-

"Hey! I forgot to tell you! Luke's name is  _ Luther-  _ can you guys believe that?!" 

Mark dropped Brock at the sudden arrival of their still drunken king, who stood swaying gently in the hall with his quilt acting as a makeshift cape; it was still red, so it kind of worked.

Brock groaned from his spot on the floor, leaning his head back against cool stone. “Really, Ohm?”

“What?” The king blinked hazily at them, mouth slowly opening in a perfectly pink ‘o’. “Ohhhh, did I interrupt your guy’s super romantic confession?” He stumbled towards Brock. 

“I’m going to kill you.”

“I’ll get my super hot werewolf husband to defend me.” Ohm declared. “I need to find him, but he’ll stop you!”

"Please do not find him, he's a wolfy tonight- remember?" Brock managed to sit up, ignoring the hand that was held out by Ohm to help him up, taking Mark's instead as he was gently helped to his feet. "And didn't I tuck you in already?"

"I kicked my way out of the sheets."

"Of course you did."

The king gave him a goofy smile, green eyes unfocused as he started to wobble down the hall. “See you guys later! Have fun with your ‘not in love’ act!”

“Where are you going?” Brock called after him, and the king giggled, passing his room and hurrying past the stained glass. 

“I’m going to go say hi to Toonzy!”

"Does he-" Mark finally spoke, voice cracking a bit as he avoided eye contact. "Does he have the keys to the dungeon?"

He turned when he heard said keys jingling, Brock- twirling them around on his finger with a sheepish grin.

"Does that answer your question?"

"It answers one of my questions."

“Oh.” Brock’s face flushed, squeaking out the word. “Um.”

Mark ducked his head, a heat crawling up his neck and ears as he laughed awkwardly. “Mirror Mirror?”

“Are you okay with that?”

“I wouldn’t offer it otherwise.” The seer straightened up, holding his other hand out for Brock to take. “Go ahead.”

"Mirror mirror," Brock started, grabbing the other hand gently in his own. "Whose the fairest of them all?"

"You," He answered easily. "And that's not with bias."

"Mirror mirror on the wall..." He trailed off, hazel eyes a bit wide as he thought for a moment. "Mirror mirror, why do you like me?"

"You do realize I've been here for a while, right?" Mark's eyes only held honesty. "You were the only person Craig trusted to clean the room where I was. You probably never saw me in the mirror, huh?"

Brock’s eyes widened with shock. “You...”

“You gotta ask me with the spell.”

The advisor nodded, swallowing thickly. “Mirror Mirror, how long have you known me?”

“Since I saw you take that spellbook.” Mark whispered, leaning forward so his mouth was at Brock’s ear. “I lied to Craig. It was the only time I could. I didn’t know why I could, just that I could tell him a lie about who took the book.”

Heart thumping, memories flooding his thoughts; of all the times he was in that room, trying to smile in his reflection on days where things got bad. Singing his way through the day, talking to himself about nothing and everything.

"Mirror Mirror-" 

"You glued me back together when no one else thought I could be fixed. You were so careful, spent so much time reading through those books and nearly getting yourself killed by a royal witch and a cannibalistic witch, and don’t even mention the caves you went down into to try to save me, after all those years of being invisible..." Mark realized he was probably squeezing Brock's hand too hard and let go. "Craig was furious when you escaped but all it did was give me hope." A hand on his cheek, titling Brock's face towards his. "I know I put my faith in the right person."

Brock sucked in a breath, eyes lingering on Mark’s lips, honesty almost visible on them. 

“Mirror Mirror-“

“No.” Mark pressed his forehead against Brock’s. “I never gave up on you.”

“How do you know what I’m going to ask?” Brock laughed, and the tension between them melted into something sweet. 

“I can see the future, Brocky. Which also means I know the answer to this question, but I still want to ask.” Brown eyes dipped down. “Can I kiss you?”

He answered with pressing forward, soft lips melting against the other- thankfully without Ohm making another grand appearance and interrupting the moment. 

They pulled apart, breathless, muttering something about 'a dream is a wish' before he was cut off by another kiss, Brock giggling against his lips.

"Mirror mirror- stay with me tonight?"

"My pleasure."


	3. Mirror Mirror Reunited

Morning found them all pleasantly exhausted, limbs aching and sore, especially the werewolf in the basement. Luke woke up with a groan and severe lack of clothes, the tatters on the floor giving a pretty good idea where they went. 

Ohm wasn’t anywhere to be found, and that made Luke pout a bit, but he still grabbed the key they had put in the cell for these kind of situations, lifting up the water bowl and grabbing the small bronze thing. 

A quick change of clothes at the entrance later, and he was walking up the stairs, groaning as last night’s pain settled on him. The door was quickly unlocked, and Luke jumped back with a shout when a familiar body toppled onto his feet.

He made sure Ohm didn't fall down the stairs- grabbing him by the back of his shirt and quickly pulling him into broad arms. 

"Jesus- are you okay Red?!" 

Ohm let out a loud groan in response, smushing his face into Luke's shirt and grabbing on tightly as a headache quickly blossomed to front of his forehead.

"I feel like death."

"There a reason you're hanging out right here, sugar?"

“I wanted to see you.” He grumbled, and winced when Luke sighed. “That’s loud.”

“You’re right against my chest, of course it’s loud.” The were pressed a kiss to Ohm’s head, breathing in the scent of wine. “You got drunk, darling?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe? Maybe you’re an idiot.” Luke quickly scooped Ohm up into his arms, and it seemed that was just where the king belonged, eyes fluttering shut.

"Maybe I'm just a lightweight," Was mumbled against the fabric of his shirt, adjusting himself so he was definitely being carried- hands tangling in the curls that rested along Luke's nape. "How was your transformation?"

"Could have been better," A shrug that jostled Ohm a bit- but a few kisses to the top of his head had him soothed. "Glad no one was around."

"They're all coming back in a week for a visit." The king yawned as he spoke, stretching out minutely in Luke's cozy hold. "Tyler said he might be a fortnite, though."

“That sounds fun.” Luke nosed further into Ohm’s hair the more his husband poked at him, taking in all the scents. “Is there someone new in the castle?”

“I mean, if you count Mark.”

“Who the fuck is Mark?” Luke paused in his strides the second he said it, jaw falling open. “Wait. Mark as in the mirror Mark?”

A slight nod against his chest, but Ohm spoke anyways- finally opened his eyes and realizing they were in the corridor adjacent to the kitchen. 

"Yeah, got him out yesterday while you were locked up in the kennel-"

"Do  _ not  _ call it a kennel I aint no damn dog! I'm a bloodthirsty hound!"

"Pupper."

“That’s different, that’s a nickname.”

“You’re such a good boy.”

“Ohm.” Luke sighed, and nudged open the doorway with his hip to walk into the kitchen. “That’s just insulting.”

“Whatever you say,” Ohm smirked against Luke’s chest. “Alpha.”

His husband nearly dropped him, glaring at the king as he giggled painfully, clutching at his head. “ _ Ohm _ .”

The two were interrupted by a throat clearing, looking forward to the sight of Brock stirring something over the fire. An amused expression ghosted across his face as he tapped the spoon on the edge of the pot.

"Well good morning," Brock said carefully, and it was clear he was trying to keep his laughter at bay. "I was wondering where Ohm went off to last night  _ after  _ I put him to bed-"

Ohm giggled nervously.

"I do not remember that- and hey! You were the one who poured me the wine, so it's kind of your fault."

They watched as Brock rolled his eyes, turning back to the pot with the spoon in hand once more; the smell of oatmeal, cinnamon and brown sugar filling the kitchen with its delicious smell. 

"I poured you one glass, you poured the rest- and it's not  _ my  _ fault you can't handle your liquor-" 

"Can I hire a new advisor, Toonzy? This one is mean to me."

"He aint wrong, though."

“I’m getting a new husband, this one’s mean to me.”

Brock laughed over some unknown joke, stirring at the oatmeal. “I think you forget your husband is a king too, though.”

“Well.” Luke started, and leaned against the counter, Ohm still snuggled in his arms. “Technically I’m not because of that royal decree your great-grandfather made after he married a fairy.”

“I thought you guys said you didn’t care about that rule.” Brock carefully measure out a bit more sugar, tapping it into the pot. “‘No inhuman creature shall be allowed to sit on the throne.’ Luke, you’re still technically human.”

“I know.” The were shrugged. “I don’t mind too much.”

The conversation was halted when the kitchen door, Mark waltzing in with a basket of berries on his hip.

"Good morning!" The man belted, twirling into the room in a very Brock-like action, setting the berries in the middle of the kitchen counter with a bright grin. "What a wonderful day to not be stuck in a mirror." The seer sent a small wave to Luke, making sure to add a little bow to it as well. "Good morning your highnesses. Hi Luther."

“Hi Mark.” Ohm mumbled, shrinking further into the warm grip at the loud noises. “How’s the body?”

“A little achey, a little sore, but I can’t complain on why.” Mark winked at his friend, Luke chuckling gruffly. 

“I like you already. Nice to meet you in the flesh, Fischbach.”

"Likewise." The ex-mirror chuckled, grabbing a handful of berries and popping one in his mouth before he tossed it Luke's way- the werewolf easily catching a blueberry in his mouth- sending a wicked grin Mark's way.

"Oh we are definitely going to be friends." He chewed thoughtfully, ignoring the swat Ohm sent his way and the hushed "Eat with your mouth closed!" from his husband either. 

"Any plans for the day?" 

"Besides living life to the fullest?" Mark laughed, hand poised to his chin dramatically. "Just harass Brock for breakfast I suppose."

“Be nice, or I’ll put something in your porridge.” Brock chided, and Mark raised his hand to flip his lover (?) off. 

“Joke’s on you, I have an impenetrable stomach! Nothing can upset me!”

“Not even magic?” Brock teased. “I don’t think your stomach can digest a spell.”

“Try me.” Mark challenged.

"Hey hey hey," Ohm started, cocking a brow their way. "No flirting over the breakfast table."

It dawned on Brock and Mark as they shared a look that  _ Ohm didn't remember a thing about last night _ , and the two dorks grinned to one another as the possibilities suddenly came to light. 

"Flirting? Who was flirting?"

"I only flirt with dark haired guys with kind eyes and bright smiles." Brock said with a scoff, grabbing a few bowls from the cabinet. "

"This just sounds like more flirting." The king deadpanned.

“Me? Flirt with the fairest of them all? I could never.”

Luke was shaking Ohm with his laughter, finally breaking when Mark dipped Brock dramatically. Howls of laughter escaped the man, dropping his husband to double over in snorts. 

“A guy spends one night as a wolf and misses an entire romance story. Unbelievable.”

"There's absolutely no romance here!" Brock insisted, bringing one leg up so that his knee rested against Mark's hip. "I already have 2 boyfriends, a third would be ridiculous."

"Wait are they gonna kill me?" Mark almost dropped Brock again, a dark flush spreading to his cheeks. "Er, not that we're dating."

"No they'll be fine." Brock assured. "We've had a chat about open relationships." The Prince paused. "Not that we're dating of course." 

"Oh my god what did I miss?!" Ohm hissed.

“If we were dating, we’d have to thank drunk Ohm.” Mark mused. “I think him yelling at us about our not-secret romance could have really pushed us closer.”

Ohm groaned, pressing his hands into his face. “Never let me get drunk again.”

“Why?” Brock moved his leg back to Mark’s hip, hitching it a little bit higher. “It’s not like you missed out on anything important, like us confessing our love.”

"I miss all of the drama." Ohm complained loudly, feeling only slightly better when Luke started rubbing his back, still wheezing like it was the funniest shit he'd ever heard- laughter increasing tenfold when he heard that Ohm had something to do with it.

"What drama? Nothing like a truth spell and some kissing-"

"You guys suck!" 

"Not each other- off- because we aren't dating." 

Luke sounded like he was going to pass out- and Ohm huffed, standing and snatching a bowl of oatmeal for himself, grumbling even as he shoveled the delicious breakfast into his mouth. "I'm leaving you and marrying Anthony, Toonzy."

"I don't think you want to be responsible for a local lumberjack's death." Luke wheezed, and snapped playfully at Ohm. "He could never treat you the way I do."

"I think that's the point." Ohm said with a full mouth. "I'm getting treated better with him."

Luke's laugh turned to a rumbling growl in his chest, turning to Mark and Brock.

"I need relationship advice from you two."

"Sorry, can't help you." Mark said instantly, winking at the were. "We aren't dating."

"Just some friendly platonic kissing," Brock mumbled, grabbing a handful of Mark's silky shirt and tugging him forward for a kiss, giggling madly against pretty and pouting lips. "Nothing to see here."

Ohm pointed a spoon in their direction, still a bit frazzled from his hangover and the recent news- but he was trying so hard not to smile, too.

"Heathens, the lot of you." 

"Like your sweet ass ain't a heathen either." Sudden arms wrapped around his neck and shoulders, kisses pressed to the side of his temple before Luke retreated, tail wagging happily as he bounded over to grab some breakfast for himself. "Alright, your majesty- we got a lot of boring shit to do today, especially since we gotta prepare for all our stupid friends coming next week too."

"Fuck, that's right, we have that meeting with those mayors today." Ohm groaned. "Okay, yeah,  _ never  _ let me get drunk again."

"I'll keep it in mind." Luke said dryly. "Can't do shit when I'm not bipedal, though."

Ohm sucked the remaining oatmeal off his spoon, worry creasing his eyebrows. "Are you up for the meeting? I could do it on my own if you're not feeling your best-"

"I'm fine." Luke interrupted, grinning with sharp teeth. He shoveled a spoonful of oatmeal into his mouth. "Besides, I can always have fun during those meetings."

"You're still horny?"

"Always for you." The wink sent his way should not have made Ohm blush as hard as it did- but here he was, covering his red cheeks as he hurried his dish off to the sink, setting it gently in the basin as Brock and Mark  _ still  _ kissed. 

"Have fun with- whatever you two are doing, I have to go bathe; I smell like mead." 

"Will do!" Brock muttered, reaching blindly to pat Ohm on the shoulder before he was wrapped up in Mark's embrace once more. 

"Well, this'll certainly be interesting next week."

  
  


Ohm sauntered out of the kitchen and into the hall, Luke quickly following behind him, bowl left on the counter and lovebirds left to furiously smooch.

"Mind if I join you for your bath, Red?"

"I have to get ready pretty quickly, Toonzy."

"Just to save water. Nothing'll happen if you don't want it to."

"Well..." Ohm flushed, letting his husband catch up with him.

Of course things  _ did  _ happen- they always did, because Ohm was insatiable most days, especially with a naked Cartoonz in the mix. He apologized profusely to the mayors when he showed up late, just hoping the lovebites weren't as prominent as he thought they were under his collar.

They were, but Ohm was the king. No one dared to mention them- and so the meetings went off without a hitch; and preparations were made during what little downtime they had for the royal arrivals in the upcoming week. Brock handled a lot of the homey preparations, making sure the guest rooms were clean with fresh sheets, made sure their would be enough food to feed all of the mouths (John included).

The week passed by in a blur, until it was already the day- and their first guests were someone Brock had been wanting to see  _ very  _ dearly.

"Hello, yer highness." Jack grinned, and laughed when he was downed in a hug. Brian chuckled at their antics, picking both of his boyfriends up and smooching Brock, humming in appreciation when Brock started to explore his chest with his hands.

"What's got ye so eager, lovebird?" He muttered, and Brock pulled away with a glint in his eyes.

"Have someone I want you to meet."

"Is it another straggler?" Jack whined, following Brock anyways when the prince started to wander off, motioning for the two to follow him with a giggle. "Ye and Ohm gotta stop taking in people like they're goin' outta style, honestly- what happens if ye take in the wrong guy and ye get murdered?" The huntsman continued, looking put out as Brock just kept laughing- Brian too, it seemed.

But then they entered the throne room, Ohm and another man chatting quietly over some paperwork or another. The man looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps; brown eyes making Jack stop dead in his tracks even if Brian kept walking.

_ "Sean!" _

“ _ Mark _ ?” Jack asked weakly, and he was tackled in a hug, the seer dashing across the room to knock his best friend against the ground, a disbelieving laugh escaping his lips. 

“Hey there, you potato fuck.”

Ohm, sensing that nothing else was going to get done that day, let out a hefty sigh and stood from the throne, leaving his bronzed crown behind as he walked over to the group- carefully stepping over the two as he went to grab Brian for a hug. 

"Long time since I've seen you round these parts!" 

"I have my own kingdom t'run Ohmer." Brian laughed but hugged back. "How's married life treatin' ya?"

"Peachy," They pulled apart, green meeting blue as their odd friendship was rekindled like the embers of a dull fire. "How's not spending time with me?"

"Oh it's fohkin fantastic. Quiet as can be."

“That’s great! I personally don’t miss someone insulting me every other second.” Ohm clapped the other king on the back, chuckling at the grumble from his friend. “How’s Tom?”

“I tink he sometimes wishes he was a horse again, but he’s doin’ great. How’s Brocky been doing?”

"Brock's had good company." Ohm's voice had a hint (a lot) of teasing in it, giggling under his breath after the fact. "No but he's been getting pretty good at his magic as you can see-" Ohm was gesturing towards Mark and Jack still on the floor, but the sudden appearance of Brock where the hand was pointing threw the king off a bit.

"I'm right here, you know."

"I know." More giggles from the king, cryptic as always.

Brock smiled at his friend, then slid his eyes to his boyfriend, hazel eyes filled with uncertainty and love. 

“Hi, love.”

“Hello, Brocky.” Brian purred, and pushed past Ohm to try and kiss his love- but a foot stuck out by his fellow king had him tripping into Brock’s chest. 

He honestly didn’t mind, pressed against firm muscle and just a hint of chub that made Brock the perfect vision, and he looked up through his eyelashes, baby blue bright and happy.

"It's been a while, huh?" Brock murmured, carding his fingers through pretty brown hair, using his other hand to hold Brian tightly against his chest. "How's the kingdom?"

"Boring without ye." He answered honestly, sighing a bit as he spoke. "And so far away from ye." 

"I know, love." He leaned down to place a gentle kiss on pink lips. "But it has to get done, you're too good of a king."

“Yer too sweet.” Brian muttered, and Ohm laughed softly, moving away from the sets of friends and lovers and back to his paperwork. 

Mark and Jack eventually disentangled from their hug, and a quick apology was sent Ohm’s direction before the four of them scurried out of the throne room, leaving the king to himself.

He thought that maybe he'd find company of his own and let his shoulders slump; brushing his pants and the nonexistent dirt that lie there. He started to walk towards the exit but it seemed that company found him; in the form of a very pale kid and a pretty husky lumberjack; sharing twin grins as they strolled into the throne room, the latter letting out a low whistle. 

"Like what you've done with the place, borther!" Smitty gestured towards the lanterns that had been hung from the bitch tree branches, bathing the multicolored room in a warm glow where the stained glass didn't reach. Smitty didn't need to hold out his arms for long, having an armful of king in a matter of seconds. "Hiya, Ohm."

“Hey, kiddo.” Ohm whispered, lifting his childhood friend off his feet. “How’s the adventures?”

“Good. We’re having fun out there.” Smiity pat his shoulder. “Can’t breathe, Ohm.”

“Sorry, sorry.” The king gently set the dragonrider down, turning to Anthony. “And would you look at that, it’s my new husband!”

"New husband?" Anthony put a hand up to his heart in mock shock, doing a little spin before he twirled over. "I did not know we were engaged but I'm not saying no!"

"Cartoonz was mean to me." The king pouted, looking not much like a king in that very moment, more like the goofball the y had all come to know and love. It seemed marriage and the job had softened him a bit but the red cape was still there; Ohm wasn't sure he could ever give it up, even if he left his dagger in his room most days. 

"Oh well if it was Luke betraying you then I am ready and willing to step up to the plate as King Jigglesworth!"

Ohm laughed and opened his arms again, this time being the one lifted. “Good to see you, Sir Jigglesworth. How’s knightship treating you?”

“It’s pretty fucking swell, and I can’t say I mind the pretty folk that swoon over me.”

“Already cheating on your new husband? I knew I couldn’t trust anyone.” Ohm scoffed and pushed himself out of the hug. “Smiity, is John open to marriage proposals?”

“He’s a fucking dragon, dude.” Smiity laughed. “Or, at least sometimes. By the way, turn around.”

The king instantly swiveled, knowing Smiity’s tendency for pranks, but pausing when he saw the man instead. He looked about Smiity’s age, but there was something very familiar about his platinum blond hair and green and blue eyes.

Ohm  _ may  _ or may not have jumped a bit- because honestly he didn't expect anybody to be behind him. A bit of smoke curled around the man's nose and mouth- and if that wasn't a dead giveaway maybe the few pearlescent scales that crawled up his neck were.

"Sup dude?"

"I uh- this is a new trick."

“Yeah, we figured some shit out.” John grinned lazily, and Ohm gulped at the sight of  _ very  _ sharp teeth, even if he was used to them on someone else. “I got bored of being left outside.”

“So you figured out how to turn human?” Ohm inched forward. “Or, partially human?”

“Yup.” John winked, slinging an arm around Ohm and blowing some smoke in his face. “The power of boredom. Smiity lost his  _ shit  _ when I first did it.”

“To be fair,” Smiity piped up from where he had seated himself at the base of a tree. “When you walk out of an inn to see a naked dude who claims to be your dragon, you think you’re going crazy.”

"It was a bumpy start-"

"John please don't-"

" _ Especially _ when you threw your dagger at me-" With a tittering laugh John turned to Ohm, cocking a brow this way. "I know you trained him when he was younger but he didn't try to stab me, Ohm. He threw the knife at me in it's sheath- like-" 

" _ Stop talking _ !"

"Very effective." The lumberjack piped up.

“Kinda hurt.” John mused. “But definitely didn’t kill me. I think he knew it was me down on the inside.”

“I hate you.” Smiity seethed, pouring ferociously as Ohm let out a few nervous chuckles. 

“You guys’ll have to tell a few of your stories when we have dinner tonight.” The king scratched at his neck, the itchy feeling of awkwardness crawling up his spine. “Sounds like you have quite a few of them. And no, Jigglesworth.” He glared at the Knight with no fury. “No sex stories.”

"Bold of you to assume I have any." With a deadpan the lumberjack just raised a brow- turning it into a full blown waggle when Ohm started to giggle- his stone cold expression ruined with thr smile that grew bright on his face. "I will get those dirty deets and Luke will tell me."

Ohm had fear in his heart when Anthony suddenly ducked out of the throne room- pressumably to find Cartoonz and grill him about his sexcapades- leaving Ohm no choice but the chase after him.

Most of their friends arrived moments before dinner, quickly being led by servants to the dining hall. There were lots of hugs, lots of laughs, and a few confused remarks on who Mark and John were, but a quick explanation had them included in the friendly groups. Ohm took the head of the table, Luke to his side and Brock on his other, but it was Tyler who stood up, blue eyes bright as the sky as he tapped his goblet.

"I'm apparently the official speech guy." He started, grin building. "So I'd like to start off with a formal thank you to King Ryan for having us here tonight."

Ohm buried his face in his hands, grinning and blushing.

"I'd then like to dismiss all formalities," and with this he took off his crown and tossed it onto the table, "and say, Ohm, dude, what the  _ fuck  _ is up? How have you been?"

No one was excluded from the laughter- especially the king in question who was wheezing like he's breathed in dust. Anthony even fell off of his chair before he managed to sit back in it. 

"I've been better!" Ohm called once he could speak once more, brushing stray locks from his forehead. "You wanna chat over dinner or are you gonna stand there the whole time?"

"Dick," Tyler sat down after flipping him off with his free hand, goblet placed on the table and fork and knife in hand instead. "Food time!"


	4. Mirror Mirror, I See Him

Instantly, half the food at the table was inhaled, people taking their first bites and already complimenting Brock. The advisor blushed at the praise he received, shyly muttering he had help. Mark, Jack and Brian's grins all showed who had exactly helped him, but the  _ type  _ of help they had given him was murky.

Seconds were interrupted by Luke and John declaring a competition, the two animals quickly shoveling food down their gullet, much to the cackles of their younger audience.

Thirds left them stuffed, and the good conversations started.

"Jonathan," Luke called across the table, not really caring if his elbows were leaning on the countertop or not. "You finally get your voice back and your bitch ass doesn't even say hi to me? The fuck?!"

"He's just tired," Evan cooed, moving his fingers to run through jet black hair, the king and former mermaid already looking drowsy.

" m'not tired."

"He's usually sleeping by now because of his god awful sleeping schedule he won't fix." 

"M'noctournal! I was and I will-" Jon yawned, rubbing at his eyes in a way that was far too adorable even if he was close to teetering into the sweet bread Brock had baked for dessert. "-I will be noctournal until I  _ die _ ."

"Hey, Jon." Ohm called, and sleepy blue eyes turned to focus on him the best they could. "I have a way to keep you awake."

Wolf whistles and cat calls rose around the table the second the words left Ohm's lips, Luke chuckling at his husband's red face. But it did seem to wake Jon up the tiniest bit, grin curling around his cheeks.

"What does your hoochie ass want, Ohm?"

"You promised to tell me how you and Toonzy met, and you never followed through." The king pouted at the merman. "I take personal offense until you resolve that."

Luke had stiffened in his seat, ears slowly tilting back as the smile on Jon's face turned to a smirk, eyes clearing mostly of exhaustion, Evan still gently petting him.

"It-it-it-it's really a story of two idiots." Jon turned to his brother in arms, grin toothy and eyes full of nostalgia. "A damn full moon brought us together; the tides were too low, I-I ended up beached on a sandbar and lucky for me there was this-this-this-this- damn fool walking along the beach. I called his mutt ass over and Luke tugged me back in the water- we played fetch with some driftwood and here we are, years later m-married to royalty." 

They each raised their glasses of ale and chuckled as they took a sip- the drink not doing much to keep Delirious awake.

He conked out a few minutes later, Evan gently pulling his head into his lap as their friends chuckled about the story and asked Luke a few more questions, which he gladly supplied with answers before the conversation turned to how Evan and Delirious met. The gold king gently smiled as he recalled the memory.

"Storm knocked me off my ship, this idiot rescued me. That's the important part of the story, the rest is me getting brainwashed by a sea witch."

Smiity had also fallen asleep, leaned against John as the dragon snickered with glee, wishing he could capture Smiity's snores.

"Speaking of brainwashing..." Brock's smirk was all Ohm needed to see to want to not be a part of the conversation, especially when hazel eyes found his own green ones. "Should I tell them about the candy cottage or do you wanna tell them?"

" _ Moo _ ," Ohm was a second away from using his authority to the shut the conversation down, face nearly the same shade as his cape.

"Oh I'd love to hear the story again, Moo Moo." Mark mumbled, bursting into laughter when Ohm's seething glare was directed his way.

"Moo don't you dare-"

"It all started with Ohm getting us lost in the woods!"

"I'm going to bed." Ohm said shortly, standing up to rambunctious laughter. "See you guys for breakfast."

He quickly scurried to the door when Moo continued the story, catching "We found a house made of  _ candy  _ before he slipped out into the hallway, sighing and smiling slightly. He did not need to relive that embarrassment, no matter how much he loved his friends.

He was halfway to his and Luke's room before the itchy feeling of being watched scratched lines into his nerves, making him look around in confusion- it wouldn't be uncommon for a servant to be around here, but a quick scan showed no one.

He shrugged it off- knowing full well it could have just been his paranoia; after all going from a castle devoid of friends suddenly filled with them was a heavy change. He continued on to his room, feeling a bit better when the familiar door came into view- and slipped inside with a sigh of relief. He felt even more calm when he could hear the distant murmurings of his friends from the kitchen below- the party still well and lively by the sounds of it. 

Exhaustion did weigh heavy in his bones, the king yawning as he stripped off his silken clothes and into something that definitely was Luke's- if the tail hole in the back was anything to go by.

He just hoped Luke was having fun without him.

He fell asleep easily enough, darkness and dreams taking him in until they turned sinister, filled with images he hated his mind for conjuring up and torturing him with. Bloodlusted wolves, golden statues, shriveled trees, and a freezing embrace he liked to pretend he didn't remember- and he didn't when he woke up in a cold sweat, mind hazy on  _ what  _ had woken him up exactly. A quick look outside showed no more than an hour could've passed, the waning moon almost in the same place he had left it in.

Frustrated hands fell limp against the sheets, Ohm tossing and turning as he struggled to get back to bed- but the flashing images whenever he closed his eyes were enough to deter him for now. He sat in the dark, desperate for strong arms to hoold him tight. He grabbed onto the duvet a little tighter, the pillow feeling cold against his clammy skin.

Fucking nightmares.

Luke swiftly traveled through the halls, goal set in mind. He'd been enjoying himself one second, the gathering of friends exactly what he needed after a full moon to rid himself of any unpleasant feelings. The next, he'd felt a small seed of worry bury itself into his heart. He'd brushed it off as moon jitters, but it only grew, a parasite of anxiety in him he quickly realized belonged to Ohm and his mating mark.

He quickly excused himself from the table, padded feet quick and silent against the floor as he traveled to find his husband and resolve whatever was making him unhappy.

Luke ignored the candles that blew out as he passed, cursing himself for being too fast as he rushed by quickly darkening halls- eventually managing to find his way back to their bedroom. He didn't bother to knock, pushing the door open with relative ease and immediately setting his sights on the man curled up in the middle of their bed.

"Ryan?" 

"Luke?" Pretty eyes filled with tears, voice cracking even as he sat up.

Luke didn't hesitate before rushing into the room, gently edging himself onto the bed and holding out his hand for Ohm to take. Instead, he was given a bone-crushing hug, sobs already wracking the king's body.

"Hey, hey hey." Luke soothed, gently pressing kisses to Ohm's hair and forehead. "What's got you all worked up, sugar?"

"I had a nightmare." His husband cried, shivering at the chill Luke had brought with him into the room. The were quickly covered them both with the duvet, plunging them into a comfortable darkness- warm, soft, with each other.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head almost instantly- and Luke was there to soothe him, making sure he had his husband protected in his arms- knowing full well that Ohm liked to be smothered when he was on the verge of a break down. He muttered honeyed words in the quiet of the room, claws parting brown hair from Ohm's forehead, his heartbeat and aura calm in order to get Ohm to slip back into the same emotion. Eventually that happened, the sobs slowing to hiccups before they stopped alltogether. 

"M'sorry for being a crybaby-" 

The words were instantly shushed by the older man, the were near growling as he held Ohm in a death grip- promising to never let go.

They eventually fell against the bed, still completely covered by the fluffy blanket as Ohm's tears oh so slowly dried off his face, helped along by claws that stroked against his cheeks.

"You should go back to the party." Ohm muttered against his chest, voice hoarse. "You were having fun."

"I'm never having fun when you're unhappy." Luke grumbled against him. 

The king nodded stiffly, tightening his hug against his husband with a ragged gasp. "I can't go to sleep."

"You don't have to." The werewolf ran his thumb over Ohm's lips. "I'll be here to protect you if you do, though."

"M'kay," Mumbled words, Ohm fighting desperately to stay awake in case the bad dreams would plague him once more- but he felt a little more secure drifting back off when Luke was there; his presence, his words, his smell and the warmth that radiated off of him. Heaven, a sharp contrast to his grated nerves and frazzled mind. 

Now he hoped the rest of his friends were having a better night than he was.

And all his friends were, happy and slightly tipsy downstairs, singing old legends and timeless classics until they started yawning. Luckily, most of their friends were functional enough to get themselves to bed. The keyword was  _ mostly _ , however, and that was where Brock found himself, carrying Smiity to bed while Brian carried John. The two kids looked identical in their sleeping expressions, the exact same shit-eating grin on their lips even in sleep.

"Should we put them in the same bed?" Brock whispered. "I don't know how comfortable they are with that."

"They've been inseparable since this fohker hatched, according t'Ohm. I tink they're okay wit a little snuggling."

Brian laid the dragon down first, making sure not to nick himself of the sharp scales that crawled up John's neck. Smitty was placed right next to him- immediately curling up next to the hearth of a man that was John. 

Brian and Brock left with smiles on their faces, sharing a kiss in the hall- Brian starting to walk back towards their room but stopping in his tracks when he realized Brock hadn't moved. The advisor had a sheepish expression on his face- Brian not needing to guess why but Brock still muttered it anyways.

"I'm just gonna..."

"Clean up?" Brian asked with a crooked grin, walking back to steal another kiss. "Yeah yeah, I'll see you in a bit?"

"I'll be back before you know it." Brock beamed, melting into their embrace before the two parted ways. 

And well

Brock wasn't back like he promised; a groggy Mark waking up hours later with a bed full of three and not four, gently disentangling himself from Brian and waking Jack up in the process.

"Wh'th'fohk're'gettin'up?" The huntsman mumbled, grabbing for the covers as Mark grabbed for some socks.

"Moo's not here- Brian said he was cleaning up after dinner. I don't think he came back."

Little did they know the man  _ was  _ still cleaning- living our a nightmare as he scrubbed violently at stone floors; shuddering as  _ his  _ voice filtered through his ears just loud enough for him to hear.

There wasn’t a lot you could do when your nervous habit and previous punishment were one in the same, but Brock did his best, gritting his teeth as insults made themselves known, jeering at him to  _ keep cleaning, servant _ .

He only leaned back when his thighs screamed at him for a different position, pausing when he realized the floors weren’t clean. A thin layer of blood coated the stones, dark red and just reflective enough to show his own terrified face, and if he peered closer he could see  _ his  _ face as well-

The advisor drew back with a forceful jerk, laughter echoing in his ears as he glanced at his hands- and yep, rubbed raw and bleeding profusely. He tied a few bandages around them and called it good, moving back to clean the bloody stones, turning cleaning water pink.

His knees were soaked in the blood, pretty dress ruined as he scrubbed and scrubbed; unsure if it was his own blood or whoevers was making his night a nightmare. 

The sound is what made him freeze- a quiet  _ thunk, thunk, thunk _ that only grew louder and louder with each passing second. 

A cane on stone.

Another shiver wracked his body at the implication- phantom pain haunting his bones and muscles as he remembered that cane when he was knelt as a wedding gift. 

He scrubbed harder. 

_ "Can you wipe out that much red?"  _

"Get away from me."

_ “Bad attitude.” _ He clucked.  _ “Treat your king with respect.” _

“You’re not my king.”

_ “Oh, but you aren’t anyone’s king either.” _ The cane clunked just a bit closer, and Brock froze as he could’ve sworn he felt bronze push into his spine.  _ “Shame. You could’ve carried on my legacy. Instead you’ve given it to a village idiot and his mutt.” _

“Shut up.” Brock growled, and shrugged the bronze off him to keep scrubbing at the stone, despairing as it only spread. 

He didn’t say anything else for a bit, just watching Brock clean until bronze clunked next to his hand, and Brock froze at the sight of the cane, not just the sound. 

_ “Show me what you’ve learned.” _

Brock didn't  _ dare  _ look up staring instead at shaking hands; from fear or over exertion, he wasn't sure. The cane dipped around in the puddle of blood making even more of a disgusting mess as the metal and iron smell mixed until it was overwhelming.

_ "Show me your magic. I know you got my seer out. Shame, I always did like that mirror." _ Shiny black shoes circled around him and left bloody footprints in their wake.  _ "And you're whoring yourself out to him too? My god, the harlot of the kingdom. Whose next- the lumberjack? The dog?" _

"Get away from me!" Brock felt his emotions welling up and he lashed out, dirty water spilling everywhere; soaking into his clothes and making him sob in frustration as the blood spread. 

_ "Servant," _

"Shut up."

_ "Stepchild." _

"Stop talking please-"

_ "Brock." _

"Brock!"

Hazel eyes snapped open, vision fuzzy with tears at the sound of the familiar voice, this one much more comforting than before. 

He wanted so desperately to throw his arms around Mark, but he couldn’t trust his own mind- conjuring up ghosts just as easily meant Mark wasn’t real as well. 

“Brock?” The seer asked again, honeyed concern lacing his words. 

“Are you real?” Brock hoarsely whispered, blinking at the fuzzy golden glow Mark seemed to have on him. 

His mirror man held out a hand in answer. “Mirror Mirror?”

Brock nearly sobbed at that alone, gently taking Mark’s hand. He kept his eyes on Mark’s face the entire time, terrified to look away. 

“Mirror Mirror, are you real?”

“Absolutely.”

It was all he needed to hear- throwing his arms around the man as tightly as he dared- hands and knees raw and aching; heart aching even more. He heard a noise of concern that was more high pitched than Mark's timbre, rough hands along his back a moment later.

"Jæsus Brock, yer filthy- and bleeding."

Jack's sudden warmth made him curl into Mark more, trying to hide his face so neither of them could see the tears.

"Is-is-is-"

"Brian's asleep, like how you should have been." Soothing words like caramel- they did little to fix the aches in his bones. "Let's get you cleaned up, Moo Moo-" 

"But the mess-"

"Ohm's not gonna care about water on the floor."

“I care.” He whispered. “I care about the mess.”

Sad sounds of something akin to pity- it just made him curl up tighter in shame. 

“Brock, look at yerself.” Jack softly whispered, and the advisor peeked at his hand. Soft golden light spilled from his fingers off into air, vanishing like smoke. A quick glance showed his other hand doing the same, and a soft golden glow under his ruined dress. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up, then we can figure out your magic, okay?” Mark supported Brock as he stood, half carrying, half dragging his boyfriend down the hall.

Jack flitted between them, occasionally muttering as he checked Brock's hands- which still held so much pain and broken skin. His magic didn't want to seem to heal the wounds yet. 

Maybe that was a good thing.

Brian woke up by the time they had gotten Brock in the basin, soft apologies muttered along goosefleshed skin as the cold water was poured over him; cleansing both dirt and blood from his body.

Brock refused to let go of Mark’s hand through the entire bath, the golden glow from under the bath water making the sad man look like a sun god, gripping determinedly onto his mortal. He winced a few times as Jack and Brian cleaned dirt and stone out of his raw skin. 

Apologies were kissed to soapy skin as he stared forward, hazel eyes seeing both everything and nothing. 

“Hey, Brock.” Mark muttered, dumping another bucket over Brock. His boyfriend finally looked at him, peering through wet strands of hair. “What do you call an amateur prophet?”

“What?” Brock asked, confused. 

“What do you call an amateur prophet?”

“Um. I-I don’t know.”

“A phet.”

It got a little laugh- which came out more like a small exhale but it was  _ something-  _ and the other three clung onto it like a lifeline.

"Ye tink that's a joke?! Brocky, Brocky- what do ye call a knight whose afraid of fighting?"

"I- uh, I don't know?"

"Sir Render."

That  _ definitely  _ got a laugh, Brock huffing to hide the small giggle that had escaped his mouth. 

Brian beamed widely at Mark, blue eyes grateful. “Ha! My joke was funnier!”

“Yer both idiots.” Jack muttered, but he still leaned down to Brock. “What was the name of the cow knight?”

“Oh jeez, I have no clue-“

“Sir Loin!” Jack shouted, and the  _ sighs  _ he got from the other two boyfriends only fueled him.

Brock was soothed with terrible jokes until he was nearly wheezing, his split spides taking some focus away from his throbbing fingers and knees. They got him all cleaned up and dressed him in what was certainly a mix of all of their clothing- 3 equally comforting smells making him relax a bit. 

And then came the real smothering- Brock in the middle of a very cozy bed with three very handsome men keeping him warm.

It was Brian who asked the hard question.

"Do ye wanna talk about it?"

Brock instantly flinched, casting his gaze downwards so he wouldn’t have to look at his lovers.

“If ye don’t, at least none of will judge ye for it.”

“I know.” Brock whispered, and snuggled closer to Brian’s chest. “I just- it was him.”

Two twin inhales from Mark and Jack, an understanding hum from Brian. 

“Was it memories or original insults?”

"New ones." He gave a watery smile when he felt a pair of arms slide around his waist, desperately trying to hold it together even when he glowed like a firefly. "Called me a-a-whore, that was really the big one. The usual stuff."

Mark seemed to tighten his hold on him when he realized this wasn't the first time- maybe with its realism but Brock had probably had nightmares before about their captor. 

He tried to squeeze the hurt out of him.

And maybe it worked just a little, because Brock kept talking. 

“I could’ve sworn I s-saw his stupid c-cane.” He said shakily, and Jack started playing idly with his hair, trying to get rid of the waver in his lover’s voice. “He wanted me to show him my magic.”

Three sets of soothing hand and lips ran over him, Mark still holding him tightly as his boyfriends tried to soothe him.

That worked better than expected- Brock slowly drifting off as he was surrounded by comforting touches and warm bodies, safe in his nest of lovers. Brock was cuddled into submission, the rest of the guys exchanging a worried look with one another before deciding it was time for bed once more.

Ohm woke up at about 5 or 6; the earliest he could have before the sunrise. Red plopped himself smack dab in the middle of the garden, not caring too much about the dewy grass that seeped through his pants.


	5. Mirror Mirror, I Hear Him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies for skipping last week. wasn’t good for either Kacie or I

Hazy clouds of fog hung around him, obscuring anything further than the forest in front of him and the castle behind him. Luke hadn’t woken up when he did, the wolf gently snoring as Ohm slid from his hug and out the door.   
The nightmares still weighed heavily on his consciousness, but it was hard to think about them when he had the gorgeous view of the world without the sun, gray and yet somehow still colorful.

His shoulders felt significantly lighter as he breathed in the cold morning air, hints of snow and ice on the horizon if the smell was anything to go by; crisp and wet. He turned when he heard a door creak open, the noise echoed tenfold in the empty morning. He could barely see the castle so there was no telling who it could be. Footsteps deadly silent on soft grass, Ohm's heart like thunder in his own chest.  
"Hello?"

The footsteps stopped in place, and Ohm felt his heart take off tenfold as no one answered and no one stepped forward.   
“Identify yourself.” He called shakily, and cursed as the footsteps kept going, the only indicator the soft shatter of frozen grass under their feet.   
Ohm tried to stand up, but a swift cane to the knees brought him back to his spot in the grass, groaning at the sharp pain in his legs.

"Well well well," The cane was back, cold metal trailing over his shoulders; a warning more than anything. "Look what the cat dragged in."  
Ohm's heart stopped at the cool words he had barely heard in his lifetime; so sharp and collected with hidden anger underneath the surface. "Don't worry about me, little red, I'm just here to get you off of my throne."   
"Are you-"  
"Real? Who knows. This could be your sick imagination manifesting itself." The cane was gone now- it was the only thing Ohm had felt; otherwise there was no lingering presence of him. "Tell me, little Red, are you cracking under pressure? You've gone soft."

Ohm sucked in a needy breath, hands jittering at his sides. “I haven’t gone soft.”  
“I do beg to differ, little Red.” He purred. “Look at you, listening to the whims of my people without a care in the world. Infrastructure, politics, who knows what you’ll try to fix next for my people.”  
“They’re my people now.” Ohm hissed, fear and anger boiling in his stomach. “I’m their king, not you.”  
“Yes, and we shall solve that issue immediately.”

Ohm expected pain; a knife or another hit- anything to prove that the aparition behind him was real.   
But there was nothing- and maybe that was scarier. He shakily got to his feet with his thighs burning in protest- stumbling across slippery grass as he hurried to get inside before he could make himself known.  
Maybe he didn't get enough sleep.

It definitely felt like that when he rushed inside, shivering at the wild temperature difference between outside and the stone castle. A unpleasant prickly feeling settled on him, legs still throbbing in somehow even more pain than before.   
He didn’t remember if the candles had been lit when he walked downstairs, but the wax was cold when he walked back up, and he wished for some of the fiery pain in his body could be transported to the wicks- the cold and dark stone didn’t make him feel as safe.

He didn't walk back to Luke, guilt gnawing at his guy at the prospect of breaking down in front of his lover once more. He headed for the kitchen instead, hoping warm food might soothe the chill that raged deep in his bones. He rubbed at his arms idly as he padded across stone tile- face morphing in disgust when he stepped in a puddle of dirty, soapy water.

He looked down, seeing the offending bucket that had spilled and made the mess, eyes narrowing then widening when he saw the abandoned rag and sponges around it, and the slight layer of blood that coated that.   
It was easy enough to guess what had happened.   
He made a mental note to give Brock a hug when he saw him next.

And he didn't have to wait much time for that; hearing soft footsteps, this time recognizeable, and turning to blessedly see his friend this time- not some unholy nightmare.   
Brock jumped and nearly screamed, the new bucket and rag in his hands held close to his chest as he calmed down from the little fright.  
"Gods, Ohm. You scared the hel outta me."

“I’m just standing here.” Ohm said, a faint tone of amusement in his voice. It felt good to see someone, and he crossed the puddle to envelop his friend in a hug.   
“What’s wrong?” Brock asked, motherly concern radiating from him. “Are you okay?”  
“Yeah.” Ohm lied. “I just saw the mess and assumed what happened.”  
His friend fell silent, gently knocking the bucket into Ohm’s back, apologizing when a little water splashed onto him.

"You know we do have people to clean, right?" Ohm asked softly, pulling back with worry in bright green eyes. Brock shrugged as nonchalantly as he could, but it was easy to see his hands twitching as they gripped the cleaning supplies a bit tighter.  
"Force of habbit?" The advisor offered, a bit of gold making his eyes look like gemstones. "I'll be quick just don't tell-"

“Brock?” Jack’s voice sounded at the end of the hall, and Brock flinched harshly.   
“Crap.”  
“Brock.” Jack said again, this time sternly. “We told ye not to worry about it.”  
“That doesn’t stop me from worrying.” Brock muttered, but still turned to face his boyfriend.   
Worry dipped in sadness gathered in blue eyes as Jack walked forward, lips thinning when he saw the bucket and rag in Brock’s hands. “Come back to bed.”

"Breakfast, I was definitely going to make breakfast and not clean." The rag and bucket were handed over to Ohm- who took the items with a snort and an eyeroll.  
"Yeah, we were definitely going to make breakfast." The king added, Brock shooting him a grateful look. "And I was going to clean-"  
His advisor's smile morphed quickly into a frown.

Jack’s smirk made Brock sigh, only slightly resisting the arm that curled around his waist.   
“Tanks fer cleaning up, Ohm. Imma go take this cutie and make him sleep. Someone else can handle breakfast.”  
“No problem.” Ohm winked. “Make sure it’s actually sleep, you heathens.”  
Jack answered by scooping Brock up in his arms, pressing a kiss to his pouty boyfriend’s neck. “We’ll try.”  
Ohm watched the two go off with a soft smile, Brock’s golden glow lingering long after they left.   
He quickly knelt, pulling up his sleeves as he started scrubbing.

After a few minutes he kind of started to see why Brock did this so much- as shitty as the circumstances were- but scrubbing out his bitter emotions and nightmares was therapeutic in a way, and he could breathe just a bit easier once the floor was spotless- felt good enough to try to make breakfast for his husband too, even if he knew that would end in disaster (he could bake like nobody's business but cooking was not his forte).

One burnt bowl of porridge later, Ohm left the kitchen smelling of smoke and carrying a plate of cookies (those counted as breakfast, right?) and trekked back up the stairs to his room. The sun had burnt through the morning fog, and while he was a little sad about not seeing the sunrise, he couldn’t complain when golden rays warmed him the second he stepped in them.   
He let himself take a deep breath before opening his door.

And god was it worth it- getting to see his husband lit by the morning sun, his features soft as he slept spread eagle on the bed- taking up nearly the entirety of the space with his legs and tail. With a smile as bright as the day he set the cookies down on the bedside table, sitting on the edge of the bed with one in hand.  
"Oh Toonzy," He sang, the sweet smell of sugar and dark chocolate wafting through their room. "Good morning, sugar. I've got some sugar for you."

He grinned when he saw eyelashes flutter, then the barest hint of yellow eyes, already golden in the minimum light they were being shown in. Luke’s ear twitched as his eyes opened fully, and Ohm tilted his head at the awe he found in his husband’s face.   
“You want a cookie?” He asked.   
“You’re beautiful.” Luke answered, gently taking the cookie and sitting up. The were gently tugged Ohm onto the bed, setting his husband on top of him, back against his chest as they situated themselves on the pillows.

Ohm giggled at the exaggerated moans Luke made as he shoveled the cookie in his mouth, cursing his ancestors and every god under the sun as he claimed it to be the "best damn cookie on this mortal plane!".  
The giggles only seemed to egg Luke on, the were going on and on about how the cookies should be a delicacy.  
"I'm the luckiest man in the world; delicious cookies and a trophy husband to come home to."  
"Cartoonz!"

“I would suggest a baking competition.” Luke proclaimed. “But it’s obvious no one can hold a candle to your sweets.”  
“Luke!”  
“Finely crafted, finely baked, the real life version of straight from your momma’s oven, my husband shatters cookie expectations!”  
Ohm wiggled in protest, squirming on Luke’s lap, laughing as an arm snaked around his waist and squeezed him tight.   
“We should get you a sexy baker outfit.”

"Really, Cartoonz?" He titled his head back to send an incredulous look to his lover- breaking out in a grin when soft kisses were peppered to his forehead and nose.  
"Uh huh. I don't joke around with sexy outfits, Ohm. It's very important to me. Dear to my heart."  
"Not your head?"  
"Maybe my other head-"  
"You're a pig, truly."  
A smile that was all sharp teeth, Luke leaning down to nuzzle behind his ear.  
"Baby, you know I'm a dog."   
"No, you're insufferable."   
"Till death to us part."   
"Yeah," Ohm's heart fluttered, cheeks pink and his heart at peace; thankful for the circumstances that brought him hear. "Till death do us part."

The morning passes quietly, people making themselves breakfast as they woke, since their resident chef was currently trapped by three boyfriends in his bed. Ohm and Luke wandered downstairs after a bit, the king’s cheeks still flushed pink (and slightly tense- Luke had teased him and refused to follow through), settling in the throne room. Ohm took the throne, Luke lounging across his legs.   
“Lapdog.”  
“Only for you, sugar.”

"You know I have things I have to do today-"  
"You mean spend time with me and our friends? Yes, we have plenty to do." Luke said cheekily, poking at Ohm's stomach with an exaggerated groan. "Come on, doll. We did all the politic shit last week."

“Yeah, yeah.” Ohm grumbled, but he hung his crown off the edge of the seat anyway, brushing brown locks out of his face. “A kingdom doesn’t stop running, Toonzy.”  
“Ryan.” The were pouted. “Relax. Our friends are here.”

"Maybe you're right." He tapped his fingers against Luke's stubbled cheek, letting out a small sigh. "I can't go to see them if you're on me like a paperweight."  
"Well spend some time with me and then we'll hang out with them." The were drawled. "It's a nice day. Walk in the woods, picnic by the lake? Not supposed to snow yet."  
"That'd be really nice."

“Why don’t you get dressed, love? Or, better dressed.” Luke ran an eye over the casual clothes, which looked nice but weren’t good for the breezy weather outside. “I’ll be waiting in the garden.”  
Ohm waited before sighing, leaning forward to press a kiss to snaggletooth teeth. “You need to get up for me to move.”  
“Do I?” But Luke still slunk off his lap, allowing his husband to stand. “10 minutes?”  
The purr in his voice had Ohm hurrying off, cheeks flushing as he felt yellow eyes stare at his retreating form.   
Even when that feeling faded, he still felt eyes on him.

He shuddered but managed to shake the feeling off, getting changed as quick as he could so he could be in the company of others, hurrying down empty halls that felt more suffocating than freeing; eyes darting around every corner before he turned them.   
Eventually he did bump into Evan and Anthony- grateful for the friendly bodies that smiled at him.   
"Hey Ohm!" The other king waved with a small grin, brown eyes lazily looking around the castle as they roamed the halls. Ohm waved back eagerly, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding.   
"Hi Evan."  
"Your highnesses."

“Sir Jigglesworth.” Ohm copied his friend’s proper tone before slinging him in a hug, eager to feel something real. Anthony chuckled, giving the king a noogie.   
“What do we have planned for today?” Evan asked, and Ohm twisted in the knight’s grip.   
“Cartoonz and I are gonna go for a short walk, but when we get back, I could always take you guys into the town. They just reopened their market for the first time in five years!”

"That sounds nice," Anthony cut in, his arm curled around the king in a friendly gesture. "I'm always a harlot for marketplace vendors."  
"Oh my god-" Evan cackled along with Ohm- eventually getting Anthony to join in with his infamous laughter until the whole hallway was filled with giggles and wheezes.   
After catching their breath they split off- Anthtony and Evan to the left corridor and Ohm to the right for his lunch date with his husband.

He was glad to find his husband in the garden, and was sworn to secrecy the second Luke saw him (“If you tell anyone I was chasing squirrels I’ll never forgive you), grinning broadly when they linked arms and walked into the forest.   
Dappled sunlight ghosted across their skin under the cover of trees, fresh air invigorating their minds. Birds sang, animals scattered when they smelled Luke coming, and they found more than one wild berry bush on their way to the pond. Lips were smeared with blackberry juice by the time they broke out of the tree cover, smiles just as sweet as sight in front of them.

Luke had the foresight to bring a blanket a few snacks (in a basket that looked oddly familiar, might he add). The were grinned and sat down with his lover, feeding him sweet bread and fruit from the lunch, brushing his thumb against Ohm's pretty and plump lips with every fruit that was brought up to his mouth.  
Kisses as they watched the water before them ripple from the breeze- leaves scattering the surface like little boats on the horizon. It was nice and oh so calm; keeping Ohm's fears and nerves at bay as he relaxed in the first time since... becoming king, probably.

“You want to go for a swim?” Luke asked, and Ohm shook his head sharply.   
“It’s almost winter, furball. I’ll freeze.”

"It'll be fun."  
"It most certainly will not be fun." Ohm gave Luke the biggest pout he could- crossing his arms and everything; looking far too adorable with a bit of berry juice staining his lips darker than normal. Luke couldn't resist swooping down to snag a kiss, his blood thrumming on his veins at the quiet moment of happiness shared between the two.  
"You sure?" The were offered with a teasing wink, "I promise it's not just an excuse to get you naked."  
"I'm cozy right where I am."


	6. Mirror Mirror, In the Market

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi.  
sorry. there’s no real excuse except for depression and general laziness, but winter break is coming up so it’ll be a lot easier in two weeks   
hope you enjoy the multiple chapter drops

"I'm cozy right where I am!" Brock protested, pulling the covers over his head. "You all wanted me in bed and now I'm here to stay. Forever."

"Brocky, we gotta go get lunch. You missed breakfast."

"You made me miss breakfast." Brock declared from his comfy spot. "Don't try to blame it on me, I just want to stay in bed."

He heard shuffling around him and grinned wildly at the feeling of someone trapping him under the blanket with their weight.

"Ye've got the right idea, love, but ye need to get up. We still have guests, after all."

"Guests can entertain themselves."

"Would ye do that to friends?"

"It's not a question, I'm already doing it."

Eventually, he was dragged out from under the covers with a heavy sigh, weakly pushing at the boyfriend who had caught him. "You guys are no fun."

"We're loads of fun- an dwe're trying t'have fun with ye." Brian said with a chuckle, leaning down to press a kiss to his temple. "Brocky." 

"Brian."

"Moo Moo."

"Mark."

"Yer Highness." 

"Jack," He blushed, pushing past them all to wander over to his wardrobe, flicking through the various dressed and skirts with a pensive expression. "No time for that- lunch time."

.”Oh,  _ now  _ he wants to eat.” Mark grumbled, but still helped Brock into his dress, expert fingers helping him tie the laces. Despite the nimble fingers of Brian and Jack, neither were good at laces.

They saw a few people on their way down, waving to Evan, Jon, Anthony, and Tyler on their way to the kitchen, where they were greeted with the amusingly disgusting sight of John, still human(ish), ripping into a piece of bloody meat. 

Brian went to cover Brock’s eyes.

"I really don't want to know where you got that." Brock squeaked, peeking around the hand only to quickly duck back behind it. 

"Wow, Mark, what a great suggestion!" Jack suddenly piped up- despite the fact that Mark hadn't said a word in a few minutes, the man turning to him with a confused expression. "We should definitely go to the market early for lunch! " 

"Oh," John seemed to finally see that he had company, sending a sheepish expression towards the 4 with a slight shrug. "Er, sorry. My b." 

"The market sounds good, " Brock took a shuddering breath, hands twitching to scrub the bloody mess on the table until his bones ached. "I'd love to go."

“I think everyone’s headed there sooner than later.” John sighed, and hid the slab of meat behind his back- even if it did nothing to hide the red smeared on his face. “Sorry again.”

The dragon got three curt nods and a shaky smile before the gaggle of boyfriend’s made their swift exit to the stables, Jack throwing a gold coin the stablegirl’s way.

"If only Tom were here," Jack joked, elbowing Brian lightly in the ribs with a grin sent his way as well. 

"I think we know too many people trapped in bodies or things they shouldn't be in." Brock commented with a furrowed brow, holding his hand out for all of the horses that turned his way as he passed. "That should be more concerning than it is, right?"

"Probably." Mark shrugged, his attention falling immediately onto a blonde/white horse that was just as equally excited to see him. "Chica!"

The horse threw her head back, stamping all four hooves on the ground in anticipation as Mark unlocked her gate, quickly saddling her up and swinging on her. Only a week back in his body and he had found a favorite horse, the mare quickly taking to the mirror man as easily as he took to her. 

Brock got a basic chestnut brown horse, usually reserved for the nobles Ohm sometimes had to meet with.

"Lil Sebastian," He cooed, brushing some of his mane with his fingers- quickly braiding some loose hair with a soft smile. "It's been a while, huh?" 

"Lil Sebastian?"

"Don't make fun of my excellent naming capabilities, Bri." Moo huffed, turning to Jack instead of Brian with a smirk. "You wanna join me?"

Jack put an honored hand on his chest. “Me? A lowly hunter, with you, such a fair prince? Why, Id be honored.”

Brian glared at them as they saddled up, jumping into Chica’s saddle with a huff. Mark leaned back to press a kiss to Brian’s hand, and then the four of them were off, trotting across the most bridge and then onto the cobble paths. 

They all kept up pleasant conversation as they went forward, Brian and Jack updating them on their side of the kingdom and the technology advances they’d been seeing.

Eventually they did make it to the main village and subsequent town square- having to stop a few times for Brock to pick some flowers- which he weaved 3 flower crowns on the way their for his beloveds. They all wore them proudly, and made sure not to disrupt them when dismounting the horses. With Chica and Lil Sebastian nestled in some public stables the four were off; Mark excited to be out and about after all those years of being cooped up in a mirror.

Brock was eternally grateful to not be king in that moment, and even if he got a few curious glances, no one paid him much mind. He and his boyfriends were just another few villagers, exploring the newly reopened market. 

Vendors called out to them as they passed, Mark dog-like as he turned his head every which way to see everything. 

Their first spot was a book stall, Brock eagerly pulling all three of them through the crowd (and nearly losing their crowns) to bounce eagerly in front of the vendor.

Brian grinned and bought Brock and Mark any book they had their eyes on, passing a hefty handful of coins the vendor's way while Jack just chuckled and flipped through an herbology book.

"Show off."

"I've got great economical infrastructure, what can I say?"

"Yer spoilin' 'em." 

"I know." A quick kiss to the side of his temple shut Jack up right quick, the huntsman pretending not to smile as he turned away. 

They spent quite a long time in the shops- browsing or goofing off- stealing kisses between stalls as they waited for their friends. Jack  _ finally  _ managed to convince Brock to eat an apple fruit pie (Brian was on standby in case things did not go the way they should have).

He... kinda enjoyed it, or at least the aftertaste after he spit out the first bite. Sweet, fruity, and he was coaxed into a second bite that he managed to swallow before calling it quits. 

Their friends were signaled by the delighted cheers of a group of kids running around the marketplace, Brock peeking out from between stalls to see what the commotion was about, choking on the remains of the pie at the sight in front of him. 

A group of kids had attached themselves to Luke, grabbing onto his legs and arms and climbing up him. A few younger ones were pulling at his tail, and one particularly brave one raised a hand to pet at his ears. 

The were didn’t seem to mind too much, snapping playfully at the kids that tugged too hard. Ohm was laughing his ass off behind him, and Brock slapped a hand over his mouth when he saw the king pull his husband’s tail as well.

"Don't y'all have parents?" The werewolf king joked, hoisting a little girl onto his shoulder so she could properly pet around his ears. "I thought you kids were taught better than to mess with things that go bump in the night."

"But it's daytime!" The girl protested, grinning with a smile that was missing a few baby teeth. Another kid interjected from Luke's knees, tugging on his pantleg when he added, "And you're a doggo! Puppies are nice!"

"I heard he's also the king's husband." Luke winked down at the group of children. "And I'm on a very important mission to find my friends."

"You guys see the embodiment of sunshine anywhere?" Nogla asked from behind Ohm, yawning as he spoke to the little ones.

“Found him!” The girl shrieked with glee, stroking Luke’s ears. The king laughed and rolled his eyes, but the smile on his face was very genuine. “Oh, Mr. Doggy King, do you want to play tag with us?”

“I’d love to, kiddo.” Luke gently lifted the girl off his shoulder, dropping her on the ground next to her friends. “But I’m on an adventure right now, and adventurers can only play tag at the end of their quest.”

The kids all pouted, but quickly scattered after pressing a few kisses to Luke’s nose. Ohm’s smile was soft and lovestruck, bringing his husband in for a quick kiss. 

“You’re wonderful, Luke.”

“You guys are so sweet, it’s literally killing me.” Tyler groaned, and forcibly separated them. “You had all afternoon to fuckin smooch, we’re here to shop!”

"You clearly underestimate how much we smooch," Came grumbled from Ohm, the king looking very unkingly as he shook his head, walking away from that group and towards the other as Luke and Tyler started to argue on where to go first. "Fancy meeting you here." He greeted, arms held wide for a hug even if he saw his friend earlier that day. Moo of course hugged back, eyes lighting up as he hurried for his bag. 

"Oh! I bought you something Ohm!"

“You did?” The king asked, and Brock hurriedly slid the cotton bag out of his satchel, handing it over to his friend. 

Ohm unfolded the lip of the bag and slid out the small carving, eyes confused then lighting up. 

“Brock, it’s gorgeous. You know how much I love swans.”

His advisor just giggled and held out his arms for a hug, which Ohm gladly participated in- knowing hugs spoke better to Brock than words. 

When they drew back, Ohm peered closer at the carving, taking in the details of the feathers and beak, admiring the paint. “Seriously. It’s beautiful.”

"I'm glad you like it." Brock's grin was blinding- wholesome- and Ohm couldn't help but smile back. "

The two looked away when there was a bit of commotion- Mark having politely made his way through the crowd- and Brock didn't even have a second to react before he was hoisted over a broad shoulder, face turning bright red as he let out a little squeak.

"Hi Ohm." The seer said casually, "thought I saw some royalty over here." 

"Oh yeah?" The king asked, laughing as Brock's cheeks got even redder. 

"Thought come over and save the princess, since Jack and Brian already have before; I felt a little left out, y'know."

"Oh, we're saving princesses?" 

It was Luke- and Ohm wasn't laughing when his world was suddenly turned upside down.

The shriek Ohm let out turned a few curious eyes their way, quickly fading when they realized no one was harmed. It didn’t stop Ohm from grumbling and pulling at Luke’s tail again, the were slapping his husband with it. 

“I mean, we always have a dragon on hand if you want an authentic experience.” Luke continued. “Sure Kryoz wouldn’t mind you trying to kill him.”

“Did I hear someone trying to kill me?” The dragon sauntered over to them, Smiity at his side. “Please, do. Existence is miserable.”

"Er," Mark patted his pockets and his bag, pulling out a single feather quill- it wasn't even sharp, but he help it up to John with a cocked brow. "Will this do?"

"For a dramatic reenactment? Fuck, sure dude." Brock was handed over to John- the dragon laughing with smokey breath as the kids that already started to gather. "The show must go on."

“Be safe.” Ohm chided from his spot, and the sudden cheers from the kids let him know John was not doing that. 

It was babysitting all over again. 

“You’ll never get the prince!” John’s voice had taken on a gravely tone, enhanced by the brimstone in his gut. 

“Try and stop me!” Mark cried back, and the crowd of kids cheered on the ‘prince’.

Eventually Luke and Nogla got roped into being Mark's 'sidekicks' while the others watching from the sidelines- Smitty with tears in his eyes as he laughed far too hard at the terrible one liners John was spouting. The dragon played it up for the kids, smiling with sharp teeth and making sure to blow a few spouts of fire to impress them (nearly burning Mark- but he  _ didn't-  _ and that's what mattered). 

Brock sat on the sidelines as he was 'captured', swooning when his heroes finally defeated the evil dragon, positively beaming when he saw his other boyfriends smiling from across the way. The 'princess' was scooped up into Mark's arms before getting set down on his feet- and Luke  _ must  _ have seen the glint in his eyes because he tried to back out of the scene as he felt a musical number kick up.

_ "He was so romantic.... I could not resist...." _ Brock twirled around the werewolf before he could escape.  _ "Someday my prince will come," _

_ "Someday we'll meet again." _ Mark sung back, blocking Luke off from escaping. Nogla slipped back into the crowd with a grin.

_ "And away to his castle we'll go," _

_ "To be happy forever I know," _

"As handsome as you two fu-idiots are," Luke glanced at the crowds of kids, Ohm sitting among them. "I'm mated."

"Can I get up yet?" John muttered quietly from his spot, facedown in the ground.

"No," Mark said quickly, twirling Brock in his arms- his dress flowing in a very elegant fashion, the kids and Ohm all clapping.  _ "Someday when spring is here," _

_ "We'll find out love anew." _

"And the birds will sing- and wedding bells will ring..."

_ "Someday when my dreams come true." _ The two ended with a dip, like always, sharing a sweet kiss that had the kids awwing- and Luke was finally able to escape. He used Tyler and Anthony as meat shields from getting dragged into anymore impromptu songs- glaring daggers at his husband from behind the lumberjack and the king respectively. 

The group eventually dispersed after some of the kids started to poke at John's dead body- and they were  _ finally  _ able to shop (though they got split up almost immediately, because that how it be sometimes). 

It was nice- a pleasant afternoon that had them all yearning to go home and relax with one another by the large hearth in the castle's parlor- sharing mead and stories as they waited for dinner to cook.

And that's where they ended up, pockets lightened by lack of coin but weighed back down with new trinkets. Ohm proudly showed off his new statuette. Brock blushed faintly from his spot on the couch each time Ohm got a compliment on it, the king eventually tucking it back into his pocket.

John whined the entire evening, a new bruise on his side thanks to a ankle biter who wanted to be a hero aching him through dinner.

"Aren't you a bloodthirsty like 30 foot dragon?" Smitty asked, a mouthful of some treat making his speech nearly incomprehensible- but John just shrugged and kicked at his friend before he snuggled closer to the fire, scales gleaming pretty in the low firelight. 

"Bitch I might be." 

Heartfelt chatter and mumbled words, kisses stolen inbetween eating candy and cookies; lips coated with sugar and chocolate, making the evening that much sweeter. Things ended much like the last night but nearly everyone fell asleep on a couch or the floor instead; a few stragglers making it to their rooms, but for the most part the halls were empty and the rooms were far, far away from the others.


	7. Mirror Mirror, People Change

Brock and Ohm couldn't sleep a wink.

They both stayed up on the couch, staring at the fire and the silhouette of John and Smiity in front of it.

Eventually the king spoke up, gently petting the sleeping werewolf in his lap. "I thought I heard him today."

"You too?" Brock's head snapped towards his friend, brow furrowed in concern. "That's why I was cleaning."

Ohm took the small swan figure out of his pocket again, using it as a fidget toy to talk, avoiding Brock's gaze. "It's weird- he barely hurt me, but I still see him everywhere. I can't imagine what it's like for you."

Brock shrugged, but the tense posture and shaking hands were a clear giveaway to how he felt. 

"Nothing I can't deal with-"

" _ Brock _ ," The urgency in Ohm's voice made the prince flinch a bit, hands fiddling nervously with the hem of his skirt. "You didn't look too good this morning."

"I don't know what you want me to say, Ohm- of course I didn't- I'm seeing Cr-Cr- _ Cr- _ " He let out a frustrated noise, standing from the couch so suddenly it made Ohm choke a bit on air. "I- it's fine."

"We're always here to listen." Ohm said patiently. "Not just me and your boyfriends,  _ everyone  _ is willing to listen."

"Telling my sob story isn't going to help me, Ohm." Brock moved away from the couch, away from his friend, hands shaking. "Cr-Cr-His Majesty is gone, and that should be good enough for me, right?"

"No-"

"Wrong!" Brock cried, and the raised voice scared the  _ shit  _ out of Ohm. He was watching Brock slowly break down, torn apart by just the tiniest nudge. "I  _ felt  _ him! He put his cane on my back!"

It seemed that Brock's sudden spike in loudness started to stir some of the others- but Brock was seconds away from hysteria- Ohm didn't even get a second to tell his friend that _ he felt the bastard too _ because Brock just went  _ off _ .

"You're right! You could never understand!" Hazel eyes filled with angry tears, mouth contorted in a sneer. "I spent years under that tyrant's thumb, manipulated into forgetting my legacy, and I think it's over, I'm safe, and what happens but you come waltzing in." He crossed the floor, looming over Ohm. "And you want me to go back."

"You know that's not true." Ohm pushed Luke off his lap, standing so he was eye level with Brock. The prince scoffed, hysteria building even further.

"I thought I was making the right choice in giving you the crown. Turns out you're just a lamer version of Cr-His Majesty."

"Fucking take that back." Ohm didn't think he'd turn to venom so quickly- but his voice was  _ drenched  _ in it- burning like acid and poison. "All I've done is help you- I put your kingdom back and what? You think I'm not good enough?" The anger in his heart must have alerted Luke- and if that didn't the  _ screaming  _ might have; loud as it echoed through the room.

Everyone heard it.

"Your ego is heavier than your crown." Brock sneered, and turned to leave, stranding Ohm alone. He was breathing heavily, eyes ablaze, and set off to stalk after Brock- but the hand that gripped him tightly stopped him in place.

"What the fuck was that?" Luke asked, and Ohm ripped his wrist out of his husband's grasp. Fine. Maybe he wouldn't go after Brock, but he still felt like screaming at something, and deep down he knew he would only harm more relationships if he stayed here as he was.

"Nothing- Moo's the one with the fucking problem!" Like an asshole he made sure he yelled it loud enough for the retreating form to hear, anger making his judgement cloudy and harsh. "I'm going for a walk."

"The hell you are-"

"I'm going for a walk." And order- not a question, and Ohm stalked off swiftly as he avoided another grab at his arm.

He ended up in a small study he hadn't been in before- the castle was huge, and he discovered new secrets monthly. Dust covered every inch of the shelves and desks, and the king let out a growl he would expect to come from his husband. Angry, animalistic as it ripped itself from his throat, tears starting to drip down his face as he slammed his fist into the wall.

It hurt, and he think he might've injured something, but the sight of bright red on his knuckles did nothing to deter him.

The sight of bright red on his knuckles did nothing to deter him, Brock desperately scrubbing at the floor. He had to clean. Had to wash away everything, the scent of soapy water clogging his nostrils from the blood that still managed to get on the floor.

_ "Again? God, you can never get enough can you? You need to be under somebody elses rule again, huh?" _ Tortured words made Brock scrub harder, his fingers aching to the point of numbness but he kept on going.

_ "A real friend wouldn't say things like that, would he? He tore you down like he'd been waiting to say those words for weeks- are you going to forgive him for that?" _ Ohm's other hand made contact with a bookshelf, wood splintering into his hand as it throbbed and went numb. 

"Fuck off, Craig, you're not real."

"Fuck off- cr-cr-cr-c-your majesty." 

  
  


Stewing in their own exposed nerves, they didn't apologize- just letting the aggression boil and stew inside of them as the night went on. Brock didn't say a word to Ohm over breakfast, hazel eyes stony and dark as he ignored his lovers too. 

_ "He's not real, Brocky. Yer just tired and emotional- come to bed, please." _

His cooking was sub par that day but who could blame him?

Their friends were jittery at the situation, the two sweetest of the bunch not on speaking terms for some reason, and it showed in breakfast the next day too, when Luke sat away from Ohm rather than next to him.

The king looked miserable, and Brock looked half-dead.

Some heroes.

_ "Get off my throne." _

_ "It would be so easy to take the throne from him." _

The argument continued into the night, and the morning after, and that night as well, Ohm walking upstairs after a silent dinner, Brock and Brian absent from the table.

He ran into Brock on his way to the guest room he had been staying in, Luke's disapproval not needed during sleeping hours too. The advisor was scrubbing at the floors, raising a hateful eye to Ohm as he stepped gingerly around the puddle, keeping his eyes off his frustration.

"The floor is clean, Brock." Ohm muttered, trying to keep his tone neutral but it came off as prerry hostile- Brock must have heard it too, because he snarled and pushed harder against the tile. 

"It can be cleaner."

"Do I need to get Brian and Jack and M-"

"Why bother?" The sound of bristles on stone was grating on Ohm's sensitive ears. "They don't believe a word I say. Think I'm crazy- that I'm making this all up." 

"I- Brock-" More scrubbing, faster and  _ louder  _ like nails in his eardrums. "I- listen to me-" More scrubbing, faster and  **louder ** like nails in his eardrums. He took a step forward. "Brock-" More scrubbing, faster and- "STOP, NOW." Ohm slammed his cane on the ground, eyes dark as he-

His cane? 

When the fuck did he get a cane?

His eyes lost their anger as they flitted down the bronze cane in his hand, fear freezing him in place as he took in the design, the grip, the slight green shimmer in the light- dropping it the second his mind would let him.

Brock had scrambled to press himself against the closet wall, skirt soaking in water. His hazel eyes flicked between Ohm and the cane that had landed between the two of them, and the silence was enough for Ohm to hear his heartbeat, pounding faster and louder like nails in his eardrums, frozen in place.

"You are him." Brock whispered, and the  _ fear  _ in his friend's voice squeezed against Ohm's heart.

"Brock I'm sor-" He didn't get to finish, the prince bolting in a heartbeat on shaky legs. Breath held in his chest like he wa suffocating.

_ "Can't believe you didn't see it sooner, servant. He didn't really try to give you the crown back, did he? Poor thing." _

_ "He won't even listen to you, Ohm." _ The cane was gone- nowhere to even be seen, making Ohm question his sanity as he staggered forward into the puddle of water.  _ "This was a misunderstanding, he's crazy- he's lost it. You need to get him to listen." _

Ohm fell to his knees in the bloody water, hands limp at his sides as he stared in the direction Brock had ran, hands twitching at his sides. "I shouldn't follow your advice."

_ "But you will." _ He sighed.  _ "So go." _

" _ Okay _ ." Ohm agreed, mind hazy and... different. He knew he needed to get Brock to listen. It was a misunderstanding. Brock was crazy. He had lost it. 

He knew he needed to get Brock to listen.

His hand tightened around the swan in his pocket.

With surprising grace he stood from the water, green eyes far too green to be entirely his own. He started walking, wet footsteps leaving a trail clear as breadcrumbs to follow. 

And Luke was on the hunt.


	8. Mirror Mirror, He’s Lost Control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)  
(early update because finals week and studying and I will not be available tomorrow)

Ohm found Brock curled up in a familiar room, the glass shards having long since swept up- thoufh the glass coffin remained untouched on the far side of the room, where Brock was laying and trying to drown out the thoughts of his majesty from his head.

He looked up when he heard Ohm enter the room, eyes widening and rolling behind the coffin. It didn't do much for cover, but it still made him feel slightly safer.

" _ Brock _ ." Ohm softly called, and moved further into the room. Bright green eyes caught on Brock's nervous behavior, the erratic rise and fall of his chest, the tears in the corner of his eyes.

"G-Get away from me."

_ "I just want to talk." _

"I've heard enough from  _ you _ !" A man on the cusp of a breakdown; hands desperately golden and shaking harder than Brock thought they ever could. His back was pressed against the wall- and with no way out he was  _ trapped-  _ rat in a cage.

Ohm got closer, Craig hovering behind his shoulder like a devil; and what was Brock supposed to do? He was so confused and scared, unable to think or react when the tip of a gilded cane tilted his chin up.

_ "Show me your magic, servant." _

Brock let loose the screaming power under his veins.

His first thought was that it  _ hurt _ , a fiery power meant to be used in defense used to attack, to lash out, to maim stop kill, anything to get the two away from him.

Ohm was blown backwards, Craig staying in his spot with a self-satisfied smirk until the second thought crossed Brock's mind- that he  _ could  _ hurt someone. Something he was so utterly against, and so he fell to the ground with a gasp, head titled down as Craig removed his cane.

_ "Pitiful. You could do so much more." _ The old king clucked his tongue, striding over to Ohm. The small swan statue had fallen out of his pocket, and the king tried to reach for it, green eyes unfocused but  _ his  _ until Craig stepped on it with his shoe.

Both Brock and Ohm froze when the small carving shattered until his heel.

Another wave of magic pulsed out of Brock, and the prince fell back down, heavy breaths taken when he realized he didn't know how to stop.

Craig turned his head curiously- eyes widening ever so slightly at the broken man before him, heat and magic spilling out of his skin like a cracked phoenix. It was so raw, so much  _ hurt  _ pouring out from him. Brock screamed and threw his head back- hazel eyes lost under the gold and fire that consumed him.

Not a good time for Luke to burst in at all- the ghost hidden from his sight as if he were never there at all.

The were instantly had to throw his arm over his face, eyes not meant for the light quickly adjusting to the brightness. 

Brock didn’t even notice his entrance, too consumed by his magic to notice anything, but Ohm weakly lifted his head, a strangled call of “ _ Toonzy _ ,” that had Luke’s heart racing. 

The werewolf king decided to go the logical route. 

“Brock, stop!” He called, to no avail. 

Craig chuckled from his spot above Ohm, the ghost leaning down the grip Ohm’s face in his hands. He waited for another pulse of magic- and struck. 

Luke ripped his gaze from Brock’s indistinguishable form when his husband started screaming too.

There was silence but Luke's ears were still ringing even after the magic died down. He heads Brock fall onto the floor, head making contact with hard with the stone. Ohm was nowhere to be found- but Brock weakly saw shiny shoes and a bronze cane in his vision. 

" _ Look what you did." _

Slowly, torturing his aching head, Brock flicked his tired eyes up, Craig tapping his cane impatiently. 

Ohm was no where to be found- he had already confirmed that, but Luke was crouched on the ground, horrified yellow staring straight-

straight at-

A swan.

Brock's eyes went wide, anxious magic blooming under his palms. 

Luke turned to him once he heard Brock staggering to his feet- the were's eyes full of  _ vemon  _ and raw anger. 

"What did you  _ do _ ."

"I-I-I- I didn't mean to-"

Luke cut him off with a low growl, stalking closer to the prince. Brock shrunk under his gaze, body trembling as the were loomed over him, ears flat against his head.

_ "No control. _ " Craig snipped from his seat on the glass coffin.

"Turn him back." Luke growled.

"I-I-I don't know-"

_ "Turn him back." _ Luke raised his clawed hand, guilt flashing across angry eyes when Brock flinched. "Brock."

The sound of shuffling behind them made them both look, Mark, Jack, and Brian rushing into the room. Mark's eyes were glazed, clutching at his head, but he still stumbled forward, taking in the scene.

_ "Look whose here to clean up your mess." _ He sneered, tapping the glass of his coffin erratically- in a pattern that drove Brock crazy- the fire burning under his skin once more.

"What the fohk-"

"Don't come closer!" The panic in Brock's voice was unmistakeable- but it only sent Jack and Brian closer while Luke quickly backed away from the heat and llumination that surrounded Brock.

"Brocky-" Brian started, reaching a hand for his boyfriend, but the prince flinched back, leaving an imprint of magic in the air where he had been.

"I said don't come closer!" The overflow of magic was starting to consume him again, hazel lost to the flames. "Jack, no-"

But the Huntsman had already reached Brock, a helping hand reached towards his love.

Craig stopped him before he could go any further, grabbing Jack's even as he couldn't see him, and Brock let out a sob, quickly followed by an unstable surge of power that blinded them all.

Craig was silent as he tapped his cane gently against Brian's temple- grinning when his residual magic took hold of the prince's form.

Two more swans- Luke screaming for Brock to stop; pushing Mark out of the room before any more harm could be done. 

A broken sob left Brock's lips when he opened his eyes, blearily seeing two more elegant birds in his vision.

Ohm had struggled to his feet by now, pretty white feathers ruffled in fear, wings dragging on the ground. Brock collapsed to his knees again, tears escaping his eyes as the tidal wave of magic in him burned out, leaving him empty, a husk of a prince, and the other two swans swung their heads to him.

Silence hung in the room, an ugly, twisted silence that draped around human and inhuman forms and blanketed them in fear.

Brock passed out.

_ "You're up." _ Craig's purr woke Brock up with a start, wincing at the throbbing ache that wracked through his body. He was laying down, cold stone making his left side unusually cool.

Craig was standing outside of his cell, arms slotted through the bars with a grin resting on his face. Luke stood next to him, but apparentlt the were couldn't see the apparition before them.

"You're up." Luke echoed, his voice sounding hollow. "Good job, Brock."

“What... what?” Brock peeled his face off where it had stuck to stone. His hair hung in sweaty strands in front of his face, a chill settling on his body. 

“My husband is still a swan, thanks for asking.” The hopelessness in Luke’s voice made Brock want to shrivel back up into a ball. “So are your boyfriends.”

_ “I do believe that’s illegal.” _

“Luke.” Brock scrambled forward, reaching his hands through the bars, trying to grab at Luke’s shirt. The werewolf stepped away easily enough. “Luke,  _ Luke, I’m so fucking sorry-” _

"And Anthony." Luke grit out, fingers twitching into fists at his side. "Jon. Smitty." Bitter laugh, malice making each word drip from his tongue. "All fucking swans- lord knows if we can tell them apart now. Don't fucking apologize,  _ fix it-" _

"I don't know how!"

“ _ Then figure it out.” _ Luke hissed. He drug his claws over his face, leaving small white scratches. “They’re still in there- Smiity won’t leave John alone, but for god’s sake, Brock,  _ fix it. _ ”

“I.” Brock hung his head, tears building in pretty hazel. “I can’t.”

The were looked at his friend with distaste. “Fine. Then stay here.”

He left Brock with Craig, the king dragging his cane over the metal bars. 

_ “I don’t know if I should leave you here to rot or put you on the throne.”  _ Craig mused.

The prince let out a frustrated cry, feeling the magic surge deep inside him. He managed to push it down this time, eyes flaming as they rounded on the ex king.

_ “Get away from me” _ He hissed, and the ghost merely chuckled, a familiar chuckle, one that haunted his childhood. 

_ “Whatever you say, servant.” _ And with that, he was gone, leaving Moo alone in his cell, golden magic tingling at his fingertips. 

The one thing Luke hadn’t counted on was that swans were  _ loud _ . They were pretty, elegant birds, but when they were used to being humans with working mouths, it made a lot of noise that grated on his sensitive ears.

The 6 swans were indistinguishable- at least to Luke. John seemed to have no problem picking Smitty out of the bunch- the bird perched on his scaled shoulders. 

He burst through the doors to the throne room with a headachr quick to sprout at all of the  _ honking  _ and squawks that echoed throughout the halls and amplified with the stone.

"Tyler- please tell me you have  _ something _ ."

'Er," The king flipped through a spellbook with a confused look etched into his handsome features. "This is in a language I don't knoe?"

The werewolf massaged his head, muttering a curse his mama would’ve smacked him for. He snatched the book out of Tyler’s hand, ignoring the two swans at his feet. 

He couldn’t read all of it, but understood enough to tell it was a spell book- and an old one at that. 

He growled, shoving the book back at Tyler. The platinum king took it warily, shaking his head at Evan from the other side of the room. 

The other king had a swan by his feet Luke was going to assume was Jon, honking loudly as he flipped through books.

Luke took a heavy seat on the throne and let his face rest in his hands. A second later and there were footsteps- a clunk of shoes and a slapping of webbed feet on tile.

"Luke..." Nogla started, biting his lip as he shuffled his feet. "Er, not t'add more shite on yer plate but..."

"Dathi." He lifted his head enough to glare. "What."

"We need a king for the kingdom. And you're inhuman."

Luke trainer his eyes on Mark, looking between the seer and the paper Nogla held in his hand. 

“What.” Not a question. A demand. “You’re bringing this up now?”

One of the two swans that flanked Mark and Daithi honked loudly, head turning to look Luke in the eye. 

“Ohm can’t rule as a fohkin swan.” Nogla said. “And yer gonna have people who won’t want a werewolf on t’t’rone, decrees or no.”

Headache turned migrane, his chest tight with anxiousness. Luke stood from the throne and snagged the crown, his hands trembling at the feeling of cold bronze underneat his fingertips. 

"Do I at least have the authority to bestow the crown on someone?"

Nogla read through the paper with a frown, his handsome features screwed in a grimace. 

"Er. That task unfortunately goes to the royal advisor..."

"Are you- sonofabitch!" Luke snatched the paper with a frown, ignoring the swan that tugged at his pant leg. "Okay, so I can proclaim a new advisor as acting queen, and then  _ they  _ can advise a new king. Fucking loophole."

“But the previous advisor has t’have commit an offense to be replaced.” Nogla countered, then frowned. “I guess that is what happened.”

Luke ignored him, scanning over the rest of the paper. Yellow eyes narrowed, then looked up, turning back to Tyler. 

“Wine! You’re the new queen! Choose a king!”

There was a brief silence before the swan at his feet started squawking at the same time Tyler started talking, wings unfolded to make him seem larger. Luke pinched his nose, looking down. 

“Ohm, sugar, is that you?”

The honking stopped, the black masked bird looking up at him and nodding, wings still out. 

“Good. Shut up so we can talk.”

"I'm already king!" Tyler protested, ignoring the king swan as he stepped over him to get to the werewolf. "Nogla, you're new queen choose a king."

"Are ye fohkin serious?!" 

"This is a nightmare." Evan muttered to John as he ran soft hands through the other Jon's feathers- listening to the sad squawks his husband gave as he pecked at his hand.

"Could be worse, I guess." The dragon shrugged.

Smiity had moved from the dragon’s shoulder to his head, wings now slumped on his shoulders and feet dangling off his neck. It couldn’t have been comfortable, but the kid still did it, honking in agreement with John. 

“I guess you’re right. We could all be swans.”

“Would that even work on me?” John wondered, Smitty leaning into his touch. Evan let out a forced laugh, running his thumb over the edge of Jon’s beak. 

More arguing pulled their attention back. 

“Okay, fucking enough!” Luke yelled, pulling at his hair in frustration, sick and tired of the squabbling in front of him. The four swans that surrounded the arguing humans scattered, moving towards their fellow swans.

"Nogla. You're the only one who can be king so- please, just- take care of the kingdom until then, okay?"

"What about Mark?"

"Mark can do magic, so he's going to be on cleanup duty." Lukr pointed to the seer, who had been pretty pale since the whole ordeal started; going from 3 boyfriends to none (well, 2 were swans and 1 was imprisoned, so). "You okay?" 

"I'm fine," He muttered, reaching for the book when it was handed his way.

Luke didn’t say anything else, just nodded curtly. 

“Should we keep looking for stuff on our own?” Evan called, fingers holding onto a delicate page. “Or help Mark?”

“I’ll answer you in a minute.” Mark muttered, eyes as dark as a swan’s. “Need to look through this book.”


	9. Mirror Mirror, So This Is Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I wouldn’t be available today buuuuuuut I got a lot of studying done and gosh, I just can’t stop the angst  
this ones for you, bee and roseray  
enjoy c:

Brock paced anxiously in his cell, finding the noise of tapping feet made him feel a bit better. It was a different sound from bronze or stone, which he appreciated.

His hands had never stopped trembling, Brock having to clench them to keep his unbridled power at bay. 

He didn't know what was going on with him; if he was crazy or just cursed. No one else had seen Craig- and it  _ would  _ make sense if he was losing his mind.

But on the other hand...

It felt too familiar, too similar to reality to not be him. 

His arms eventually started shaking too, the magic in his hands refusing to be kept back once the lid had popped off. 

He sat down heavily in the corner, pressing himself against the stove bricks with a shiver.

He wasn't sure how long he was done there- warm and dangerous hands pressed against his eyes, bursts of colors dancing across his closed eyelids. He might have slept, might not have. Either way he was exhausted when he finally was able to open his eyes, feeling someone elses watching him.

He sat up.

He quickly cast a look outside his cell, the light from his hands reaching just past the bars, frowning when he didn’t see anyone. Thoughts of a ghost crossed his mind and he went to move back to his corner, when he heard the agitated honk. 

He jumped, not expecting the noise. 

He wasn’t proud to admit he could tell the difference between the three swans he had seen, some factual part of his mind taking in the slightly grayer color to Ohm’s feathers. 

He stared at the swan king, realizing a second too late the bird carried a piece of paper and a long stick of charcoal in his mouth.

The paper was dropped to the ground with a quiet noise, and Brock was more confused than any other emotion as he knelt on the cold stone. 

He didn't trust himself to get any closer, not wanting to make things worse- but he did watch with curiosity as the charcoal was adjusted in Ohm's beak.

The swan twisted his head sideways, the long neck making it east for him to press the charcoal to the paper, a webbed foot holding it in place. 

Brock lifted an eyebrow when he realized Ohm was writing, the king trying to make the letters straight as possible when using his mouth to scribble down letters. 

Brock watched an I, an M, a S slowly appear, Ohm writing quicker as he picked the skill up. 

Eventually the paper was slid to the bars with a gray foot, his friend honking at him. 

Brock cautiously read through the bars, still not trusting himself to get closer- but Ohm slid it through the bars and into his grip.

The paper burned in his hands, his magic charring the edges of the parchment but not omce touching the shaky lettering from the swan. He let the paper go before it could catch fire, eyes filling with unshed tears as his eyes finally met the dark ones of his friend.

"You have nothing to be sorry about." He thought back to their fights- how he went off on Ohm; not the other way around. He screamed. He blamed. He called his friend akin to the monster who had tortured him for years.

The swan let out an impatient huff, waddling closer to get the paper again and start writing. 

_ I SCARED YOU. _

“I freaking turned you into a swan.”

Ohm honked angrily at him, aiming to peck at his hand when he slid the paper back. Brock fearfully drew his hand back, not wanting to hurt his friend further. 

Because the truth was, he might have been scared. But that didn’t excuse what he had done to Ohm, no matter who’s side you looked at it from. And now he was terrified of losing his best friend, if he hadn’t already.

"Ohm, even if you forgive me..." Brock curled in on himself, having to squeeze his eyes shut in a vain attempt to stop the tears. "You shouldn't. I can't even forgive myself, Ryan. I... I..." 

More honking- frantic and angry, beak tapping against the bars of the cell.

"I can't fix this!"

The words were accompanied by the match striking inside him again, light and flame shooting through his body again. He curled further in on himself,  _ ashamed  _ of losing control so easily. The magic bubbled and waved through him, and he was sure his hazel was hidden by flame once more. 

A beacon of light, used for dark things. 

“I can’t fix this.” He repeated, daring to look at his friend. 

The swan didn’t look scared. He wasn’t backed against the wall, he wasn’t gone, he wasn’t squawking in fear. Despite the bright glow of very real flames that crackled in the cell, Ohm looked...

Well, Brock wasn’t sure if he could use  _ determined  _ to describe a bird, but something close to that.

Ohm squawked at him, softer than the first few honks, head titled to express himself when he couldn't in any other way. With one last nudge towards the paper Ohm turned and waddled out, his footsteps almost comical had the situation been anything else. 

When Brock was able to shove the flames down once more he dragged himself over to the paper, his heart frozen in his chest when he saw new scribbled words- chickscratch almost (pun intended), but legible none the less.

_ Long live the king. _

He got a few hours of sleep before he was woken up again, charred paper crumpled in his hand. He shot up at the sound of metal bars gently rattling, magic already sprinting to his defense, slumping against the stone wall when he saw the bronze cane poke in between the metal. 

_ “You know he’s lying to you.” _ Craig muttered, pacing in front of Brock’s cell.  _ “He wouldn’t apologize.” _

“Seems like a lot of effort for a fake apology.” Brock muttered, uncrumpling the paper to trace over the last words again. 

_ “You forget who knows best, servant.” _

“Just go away.” He rubbed at his tired eyes, just wanting to  _ sleep _ , and the annoyed huff let him know Craig was gone. 

The stick of charcoal rested in his other hand.

An idea came to mind.

He might be wrong about his actions- about how he reacted, but god fucking dammit he was  _ not  _ wrong about the entity haunting him- and he'd rather not go down as liar. 

Brock knew just the guy who could help.

He did say he missed Gorilla, didn't he?

"Do we know anyone who can help?" Luke asked, sighing as he straightened out Ohm's feathers, his hope dwindling each and every day. Mark looked like he hadn't slept, and was blatantly ignoring the aggressive swan that bit at his ankles- jotting down notes in his spare parchment. 

"Nope."

“Ohm, do you have any more weird friends?” He ran a soothing hand over a few twisted feathers, his husband dipping his head down and shaking it. 

John sat on the steps to the throne, Smiity curled around his shoulders, softly dozing off. The dragon was staring at his own book, mumbling words occasionally. 

Brian bit at Mark again, honking loud enough that they shushed him. 

Being Brian Michael Hanby, he honked louder.

"Can you please be quiet, dear?" The seer mumbled, flipping to another page. Another swan waddled up next to him, honking loud enough to make Luke jump as well.

"Jack. Jesus christ-" 

More squawks that Brian joined in on- and Smitty too when the swan was woken up by the sudden loud noises. 

Craig stood off to the side, fingers tracing delicately over the bronze gildings of  _ his  _ throne- ghostly fingernails catching in the ornate designs. 

They locked Brock up for days already- and it was only a matter of time before the week ended.

He grinned at the panicking swans, knowing without a doubt their poor tiny hearts must’ve been pounding at a million miles per minute. He tilted his head in acknowledgement to the swan around the dragon’s neck, the child spreading his wings and flapping in a panic. 

It was interesting to notice the details of how their humanity faded, slowly over the course of the week. The ghost king smiled self-satisfactorily, moving to sit in the throne and vanishing. 

The three other swans were still honking, Ohm frozen in Luke’s lap.

It was certainly part of Craig's plan- Ohm was sure of it. Unable to speak, barely even able to write anymore as his fine motor skills slowly got worse and worse.

He couldn't say a word about the man who caused it all. 

Luke gently cooed to him as he stroked the fright-puffened feathers, hoping to soothe his anxious mate.

  
  


"Okay- so..." Brock had the symbols and runes all drawn across stone floor- a giant circle connecting them all. The prince sat in the middle, holding a small shard of glass to his finger.

“Here goes nothing.” He whispered, and pricked the pad of his thumb. 

It stung, but it was well worth it when a single drop fell to the circle, lighting the charcoal up bright red. 

“I summon the Keeper of the Dryad and the Sword.” He whispered, and that was all he apparently needed to say, a cloud of smoke appearing outside his cell. The thick black cloud quickly turned the same red as the circle, Brock struggling to his feet inside the circle as he watched cautiously.

The smoke eventually solidified- familiar crimson eyes a comforting sight in the darkness.

Anything that wasn't green. 

"Who the hell is summoning me at this god awful hou- oh. Brock." Gorilla blinked once, twice, before he took a step closer to the bars- hands gripping them with a loose grip. "Uh, why're you all locked up, Moo?"

"Help me," He didn't answer- desperation making his voice crack as the words poured out from his lips. "I think I'm cursed- or that I cursed my friends. I think I'm seeing Craig- no one else can see him."

Gorilla raised a dark eyebrow, moving his grip to be a casual lean. “Where’s everyone else?”

Brock shuddered, moving to the edge of the circle. “Fixing my mistakes. Please, Gorilla- help.”

And god bless (if it wasn’t offensive) his friend, the demon motioning for him to sit back down and walking through the bars. “Tell me what happened.”

And so Brock did, spilling the story to the demon, detail after detail, voice cracking, breaking, magic shuddering under his veins.

His friend listened patiently, with eyes unblinking even at the face of such powerful and uncontrolled magic. 

_ "This is how low you've sunk, servant?" _ The ghost he had thought was gone wandered around the circle, his shoes clicking loudly on the hard floor. Brock stopped mid-sentence once he heard the old king interrupt him, looking up to see a sneer plastered on his face.

The prince was ready to sob when Gorilla didn't even flinch- the magic surging violently in his blood with pressure mounting through him.

_ "Deals with the devil? I thought I taught you better than-"  _

A dark hand suddenly closed around Craig's throat, choking him even in such a disembodied state. Gorilla slowly turned his head, red eyes unblinking as they met the wide ones of the old king.

"Well, well, well."

Craig couldn’t do anything but choke, gagging violently on lack of air (however ghosts breathed). 

Brock sat, frozen. Panic and victory made an odd combination of adrenaline in his veins, sparking the magic off into a much cooler flame, a soft blue coming from his fingertips. 

“Brock, don’t say a word.” Gorilla said softly, squeezing a bit tighter around Craig’s throat. The old king was fumbling with his cane, green magic sparking in the face of red until Gorilla knocked that from his hand, shaking Craig in his grasp. 

“You’re supposed to be dead.” The demon hissed quietly.

"Funny-" He gasped, his hands clawing desperately at Gorilla's own. "-how things happen."

The demon's eyes narrowed, slits like fractured rubies as they looked through Craig at something Brock couldn't see. 

"A dead man's curse, of course you would. Scummy." Gorilla didn't back down- instead tightening his hold on the king. A quick glance towards Brock with that same unseeing expression before the man spoke again, voice darker. "A week curse." 

"Like, not strong...?"

"Week as in 7 days, Moo."

“Oh.” The prince worried at his lip. “What does it do?”

“He’s slowly taking our friend’s humanity.” One of Gorilla’s fingers twitched like he wanted to slit Craig’s throat right then and there. “Using it to bring himself back to life. I bet he’s done this to multiple villagers too.”

“Support the local ecosystem.” Craig sneered, and Brock realized with a start his voice had lost the ghostly echo. “Did you know swans are going missing? Have been for years.”

“Oh, shut up.” The demon hissed, and a little tendril of smoke curled around his ear. “How long have they been swans?”

“F-five days?” Brock said uncertainly.

"Oh for- god fucking dammit." Gorilla let Craig drop to the floor, his body  _ hitting  _ the floor with a resounding thunk. The demon dug his heel into the man's hand when he reached for the sparking cane, snarling for the man to stay down as he faced Brock once more. "This is not good, Brock. These kids of spells have to have safeguards- and luckily for us, it does." Blood eyes dissapeared when the demon blinked. "This is a hefty safeguard. Requires a helluva sacrifice."

"I'll do anything-" Brock said, hands filled with burning magic.

"Eager  _ pet-" _

"I thought I told you to shut up."

“I thought I was  _ dead _ .” With a grin, Craig ripped his hand out from under Gorilla’s foot, launching himself for the cane and vanishing with a snarky laugh.

The demon swore, reaching for where Craig had last been- to no avail. The ghost king was truly gone, vanished into thin air. He quickly swiveled back to Brock, stalking closer to his friend with a mildly panicked look. 

“What’s the most important thing to you?”

“What?” Brock asked weakly, eyes flicking between where Craig had been and his friend- until the demon gripped him by the shoulders with strong hands. 

“What’s the most important thing to you?  _ Quickly _ .”

“What- why-“ Brock sputtered, magic waning confusion in him. 

“We have two days to fix our friends. Think of something. Quick.”

“I...” Brock’s hazel eyes flared bright gold for a second, chewing on his lip until it bled. “Love. Love is the most important thing in life.”

"Are you willing to sacrifice that to save everyone?"

Brock didn't hesitate when he answered this time.


	10. Mirror Mirror, I Don’t Recognize Him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> C:  
done with finals. enjoy the angst.

Honking became louder and louder with each passing hour; driving nearly all of their friends insane with both stress and heartache as the pitiful sounds came from the elegant swans, whose eyes were sad and feathers ruffled. 

Luke was ready to storm down to the dungeon and let the supernova know just how pissed he was- but a gentle hand from Evan made him stop and take a few to calm himself, unaware that the man downstairs was pouring his heart out into a painful solution to their dire problem.

Ohm quickly waddled over to him when he sat back down, the quietest of the swans. 

Maybe it had something to do with the paper and charcoal clutched in his beak, but the paper was quickly deposited at Luke’s feet. 

“Yes, Ohm?” The were gently muttered, crouching down. He expected some writing, maybe a drawing, but he didn’t expect the agitated honk from his husband. 

“Ohm?”

Another honk, the swan tilting his head to press the charcoal to the paper-

And scribbling. Meaningless lines, an animal finding a new toy to play with. Panic was set deep in those dark eyes, staring painfully at Luke’s yellow. 

Every eye swung to the were when they heard him sniffle.

Luke's tears were soothed with reassuring words from their friends, but they just sounded hollow to tuft ears.

His heart felt  _ empty _ , broken. Shattered. He was drowning in the fear of losing Ohm again, lungs shriveled as he breathed in despair and breathed out hope. 

Luke was lost without his red, a beacon of light in such a dark, dark world.

A beacon of light didn’t belong in such a dark dark world, and so Gorilla let him out, a quick teleport bringing him and a shivering Brock to a field of flowers. 

What was underneath the flowers, however, was what they needed. 

“Grab as many nettles as you can.” Gorilla said quietly, heart wrenching at the sight of the sickly prince kneel to the ground. “They all have to be handpicked by you- that’s the only way the magic will work.”

“Yeah.” Brock said softly. Handfuls of stinging nettle were ripped from the dirt, the prince not even seeming to care when his hands started to break out in blisters. 

“Remember, this is your only shot at getting these.”

“I  _ know _ , thank you.”

They fell silent after that, Brock throwing handful after handful of bloody plants into a basket, a few bursts of color from the various flowers that had gotten thrown into the mix. Brock stood wordlessly, the basket on his hip- any birds that would normally flutter towards the man were silent and still in the foggy dusk.

"I'm ready." He said, voice numb and oh so tired.

A sleepless night, needing to weave far too many sweaters with painful plants, his bloody hands barely even registering as he worked at them.

The first sweater was harder, simply because he hadn’t worked with the plants before and they kept coming unwoven, but he quickly picked it up, a sweater the perfect size for a knighted lumberjack, the white heather that had stuck to the nettle coloring the sweater nicely. 

The second sweater was much easier, for a kid who was barely an adult, and Brock stared blankly as his bloody hands dropped onto the wild hollyhock.

Third sweater. A perfect fit for a merman. Honeysuckle. 

The fourth and fifth sweaters almost got tied together, and if Brock had anything left in him to care he would’ve been sobbing at the stress, the day come and nearly gone, sunset rays shining onto marigold and mallow.

The sixth sweater was rushed, he'll admit. He took shortcuts, needing to leave before sundown or else the spell wouldn't work. He plucked nettle but made sure to interweave pear blossom into the clothing, his hands as numb as his heart. With a heavy pit in his stomach he handed the basket off to Gorilla. 

The cell was empty by nightfall, only a handful of poppies and rosemary left by the prince in his wake.

He and Gorilla walked through the halls, the demon hurrying him along through stone paths until they could hear voices- voices and panicked honking. Brock knew he should’ve been worried at the sound of the swans, but nothing tugged at his heartstrings. 

Gorilla threw open the door, basket swinging wildly as he stalked in the room, barely paying attention to the scene in front of him and the apathetic prince. 

Luke, hugging a light gray swan. 

Five other swans held in place by different people. 

“Y’all need some  _ fucking help _ .” Gorilla growled.

Pretty hazel turned away from the scene, not making eye contact with any of them, letting the Gorilla take lead. 

He wasn't supposed to be here anyways.

Gorilla rushed forward and started fumbling with the seeaters, impervious to the pain as he instructed the idiots to "Put a sweater on a fucking duck, godammit!" 

No one corrected him on the bird type- hissing as their fingers made contact with the stinging nettle- ignoring the pained honks and cries from the swans as they were shoved into the clothing.

It was just their luck that they'd have a wardobe maufunction.

Luke’s trembling and blistered hands made the mistake, a claw in the wrong place as Ohm twisted and fumbled, a sleeve sliced, yellow eyes panicky as Luke tried to reattach the nettled sleeve to no avail. 

Gorilla had to calm his old friend down, soothing the werewolf as he took Ohm from his husband’s arms, turning back to Brock. 

“Now.”

Brock screwed up his brow, full expression pulled in bland concentration. The magic sprung to life inside him, muted and calmer than before.

Bright gold; calm and dangerous, soft and controlled. The nettled sweaters glowed faintly in the dimly lit room; but it still blinded them all when the power surged anf popped.

5 humans- laid on the floor in pain as nettles pricked at their skin; but those wounds could heal.

Ohm's wound couldn't; the man letting out a yell as he was thrown back into his body; the new addition unnatural and making panic seep deep into his heart. The king thrashed violently in strong arms, drinking in gasps like his lungs were filled with water- green eyes filled with tears.

“Ohm! Ohm, buddy, I need you to calm down.” The king turned his face to Gorilla’s calm one, red eyes confused. 

Panic still flooded through his veins, a high pitched whine escaping his throat, another pair of arms taking him. 

He instantly relaxed, but still shook, nestled in Luke’s arms. 

“Ohm, sugar, I need you to take deep breaths with me. Like nightmares. In. Out.”

With the were's steady breaths giving direction Ohm took it- snatched it with a blind hold and shaking fingers. He breathed.

In and out just as Luke instructed; his anxiety slowly ebbing away to dread.

"Luke, what's  _ wrong  _ with me?!"

No one noticed Brock slip out among the confusion, soft footsteps leaving the castle far, far behind.

"Sugar, calm down- you're back, you're okay-"

“I still have a fucking  _ wing _ .” Ohm cried. Panic set aside, now just confusion. “Toonzy, I have a  _ wing _ .”

And indeed he did, the ginormous swan wing tucked against his body where his left arm should’ve been, feathers poofed up. 

“It’s okay, we’ll figure it out, you’re okay.” Luke smothered kisses into Ohm’s hair. The other five humans were helped upwards, sweaters sliced off. 

A light gray wing stiffened, the human hand clutching at the were’s clothes. “Luke, Luke, it was Craig, Craig was here-“

" _ I _ know." Gorilla finally snapped back into the conversation, his tone expressing all of the emotion he needed to as he strode over to the two. "He tried to come back to life with this stupid stunt- I hexed the castle so it should keep his lanky ass spirit at bay; but fuck if I know." 

The others had all frozen the second that Ohm said  _ his  _ name- hearts beating a million miles a minute like erratic drums. 

"He... Craig  _ died- _ "

"Yeah, he did." The demon rounded on Evan, the kimg cowering back a bit at the sudden anger directed his way. "And he's haunting the place."

“He’s right.” Smiity’s voice was quiet as John helped him up. “We could all see him.”

A painful silence hung over the throne room, Ohm’s quiet sobs the only thing to break it. 

“How do we get rid of him?” Brian asked. 

“Like I said, I put a hex over the castle, but I got zero clue how long that will hold.”

"Well- fohk." Jack hissed, picking at the nettle stings on his chest with a grimace. "T'ought we got rid of the guy when he  _ died-  _ now he's trying to come back from the dead. What, wanted t'take back the crown?" 

"I think so." The man who the crown belonged too spoke, his wing twitching with every other word. "Wouldn't leave me alone about it. I don't know if he said anything to any of you, though."

His voice was soft- quiet as if afraid he spoke any louder than the silence would shatter like glass. 

Luke pressed a kiss to his temple once more.

“He wouldn’t leave Brock alone about it either.” Ohm said quietly, and grimaced as his wing twitched outwards. 

Mark’s eyes went wide, grabbing for Jack’s hand. “When we found him cleaning.”

“... _ fohk _ .” Jack hissed. “Brock, I’m so fohking sorry-“ Blue eyes flickered over the small crowd. “Brocky?”

Gorilla shook his head when sapphire, opal and amber eyes snapped his way, the demon letting a sigh escape from his dark lips.

"Where's Brock?" Brian asked anyways, fear crawlimg up his throat like acid. Suddenly emerald joined the mix, Ohm wobbly on his feet as he stood from Cartoonz' arms. 

"Gorilla please-"

“Y’know, he loved us a lot.” Gorilla said quietly. “Guy  _ thrived  _ on love. When I asked him what the most important thing in the world was to him, guess what he said?”

“ _ Where is he _ ?” Jack demanded, eyes snagging on Mark, whose eyes had gone glazed. 

“...why?” The seer asked. 

“I just told you.” Gorilla pulled something out of his pocket, striding over to Brian to place a small glass heart in his hand. “He loved us all.”

"He-" Ohm stumbled his way over to where they were standing, his wing stiff at his side as the light caught  _ just right _ on the trinket; a small bit of orange liquid glittering in the center of the glass.

"This isn't Brock!" Jack was the first to protest, voice bordering on hysterical- but he was interrupted by Gorilla once more, the demon placing a gentle hand on the huntsman's shoulder.

"It's his love. He can't feel it anymore. I'm sorry; it was the only way."

"Only way for what?" Luke's voice was soft and gentle as he pulled Ohm back, half fearful his husband would break the glass and half needing his mate back at his side.

"Stop Craig, save your asses, get control over his magic." Gorilla sighed, drawing back from the group. "I should get back to Squirrel."

He was given no goodbye, no thank you, but he didn't expect one, ghosting away in a cloud of red smoke with a sigh. Every eye on the room was still trained on the heart, Brian gently closing his fist around it.

The prince sat down on the floor quietly, bringing his knees to his chest- Ohm could only watch as he let out a small sob and curled in tighter on himself, not comforted by the two arms that were quick to wrap around him.

What a terrible day indeed.

Brock scrubbed at the counter. Not as a nervous habit, not because he felt the want to, no, just to make the place livable. 

The birds that had made their nest in the house refused to budge from it the second he set foot in the cottage, so he ignored them- ignored the family of mice that squeaked in fear when he passed by their hidey hole. Like normal animals. 

He dusted, mopped, swept, folded sheets, trimmed back the wild growth of plants, found the goat (and her kid). He worked through the entire night, noting without feeling the exhaustion that set into his bones when morning cane.

His heart was empty, no light behind his eyes. Only pain and sorrow seeping into his body as he laid down and slept. 

And he survived; not really  _ living  _ but he was alive, even if he couldn't feel it. 

Unaware of the turmoil in the kingdom; Nogla trying desperately to find a loophole that could reinstate Ohm as kind, but he was  _ technically _ inhuman- and he was so close to losing his kingdom on top of already losing a friend.


	11. Mirror Mirror, We’ve Forgotten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey angstlords

The swan king sobbed his frustrations to Luke that night, unsure of to keep the wing close to his body, where he could feel it, or outstretched, where it just became all the more obvious. 

The were wiped away ever tear he shed, soothing his lover’s cries with suffocating hugs, uncertainty hanging over him like a cloud of smoke- suffocating, thick, deadly. 

Until someone knocked at the room door.

Reluctantly Ohm struggled out of bed, unstesdy as his wing side weighed hin down. Luke tried to pull h back but Ohm just shook his head, wiping a few stray tears from his eyes as he opened the door.

"Mark? Brian? What are you guys doing here?" 

He noted that the seer was far more quiet than ususal, his hand gripping Brian's arm tightly. "Guys?" 

"Mark has a terrible solution to yer problem." 

"It's not terrible-"

“It’s pretty fohkin terrible, love.” Brian shuffled in the doorframe nervously, sighing. “Can we come in?”

Ohm moved to gesture them in with the hand that wasn’t on the door, sighing when his wing spread instead. “Be my guest.”

Luke slid off the bed, walking to meet Brian and Mark halfway. “What’s your plan?”

“I’m not sure it’s even gonna work-“

“It is.” Mark interrupted stubbornly. “It- it’s going to hurt. A lot. But it’s going to work if you do it.”

Luke wrapped a firm around around Ohm's waist, tucking the man close to his chest.

"See, I don't like sound of that and I haven't even heard the damn plan yet."

"He wants t'turn ye back into a fohkin swan!" Brian's outburst had Ohm flinching, a somewhat bird-like squawk coming from his lips as he curled further into Luke. 

"I-  _ what _ ?"

“I don’t see how that helps.” Luke said quietly. “I’d much rather have my husband with a wing than no husband at all.”

“That’s not the full plan.” Mark protested. “I’m going to turn you back into a swan, then back to yourself.”

“Can you even do that?” Ohm asked quietly. 

“I found the spell Craig used- it’s a simple charm. Technically, I could turn you into anything, but a swan would be easiest because the component is already there.”

“It’s a terrible fohkin plan.” Brian muttered. “Ye didn’t get turned into a swan- that shite  _ hurts _ .”

Mark frowned at his boyfriend. “I can see the future, Brian, I know it’s going to hurt. I literally warned him it was going to hurt.”

"What if it doesn't work, huh?"

"It will work- I can see the future. Still." Mark scowled a bit, reining in his temper. "It's a simple spell but it'll take me a while to prepare it since it requires a rare ingredient." He turned to Ohm, brown eyes pensive. "Do you want me to try?"

Ohm worried at his lip, head spinning at the options before him. 

If Mark was sure it was going too work...

“If you’re sure it’s gonna work.” He mumbled out loud. His wing twitched, and he grit his teeth at the feeling of the unusual appendage. “Yes. Definitely, then.”

Mark’s eyes softened, guilt swirling through pretty amber. “Okay. I’m sorry in advance.”

Luke pressed a worried kiss to Ohm’s head as the other two men left, spinning his husband around in his arms to look at him. “You sure you want to do this?”

"I- I can't keep it, Toonzy." Worry and panic welled up in him like water overflowing, his hand twitching out of sync with his wing. "Law says I can't rule like this. I'm not pushing this burden on anyone. If that's what it takes then I'll do it in a heartbeat."

A clawed hand squeezed the tip of his wing, crumpling feathers he immediately soothed back into place. “Okay. I trust you, sugar.”

“I think you’re going to need to trust Mark more than me.”

Four hours later found them still in the bedroom, standing nervously in front of Mark. The seer’s left hand was stained blue with dye, a nasty bruise decorated his cheek, and a black pearl was clutched in his hand. 

They knew better than to ask. 

“You ready?” Mark asked quietly.

"As ready as I'll ever be." The king grumbled, sitting down on the edge of the bed as nerves made his thighs tremble bad enough to where he couldn't stand. 

Luke was on standby- on the edge of the room as per Mark's instructions- though the were was still technically in the blast zone if things went awry.

Mark pursed his lips, pressing the pearl to Ohm’s forehead before drawing away, hands coated in pink magic. 

Some of the pink stayed on Ohm, the king shuddering when it started to spread over his form, covering him like water until there was a blinding flash and a strangled cry of pain that made Luke whine. 

When their vision cleared, it was to a swan sitting on the bed, sadly honking. Luke wasted no time in stalking across the room to pick his husband up, running his hand over the small feathers on his head.

It seemed to soothe him a bit but not by much, Ohm still honking even with the hands trying desperately to soothe him. 

"So you have a week?"

"It shouldn't take me a week to sew another sweater." Mark said, the pink magic calm and pale under his palms. "Maybe a day? How hard can it be to sew?"

"Oh my god." Luke took a deep breathe, eyes like steel as he looked over to the seer. "You don't know how to sew?"

"With plants? No! Do you? I'm going to do my best, alright?"

“I’m going to eviscerate you if you don’t get Ohm back.” Luke threatened, and the anger in his voice was  _ very  _ real. 

Mark gulped, Brian rubbing his back and handing him the basket of nettle, which Mark took with a wince. Memories of flower crowns braided together floated through his mind, and a bitter smile coated his face as he took a string of nettle in his hands, clenching his fist at the pain. 

Ohm honked again, curling against Luke’s chest spitefully. He tucked his head under his wing, hiding his face from everyone’s view, and Luke sighed heavily. 

“Just- hurry.”

"I'm going to do this right, I promise." Mark's words were soft- soft as they could be to reassure the royal couple of his promise and dedication. 

The nettles pricked his hands like fire, but the pain was only temporary.

The nettles stung but at least it was something, pain echoing in his hollow heart.

_ "Your demon friend cursed me out of my own castle." _ Craig hissed, cane tapping erratically on the brick floor. Brock didn't even look as he walked by him, a basket of apples on his hips as he sauntered into the small kitchen.

"You're still here?"

_ “You don’t seem to care.” _

“I really don’t.” Brock commented, setting aside one of the apples to eat later, the others starting to be skinned. 

_ “You should be terrified of me, servant.” _

Brock yawned, slicing an apple perfectly in half. “Cool.”

Craig hissed, stalking closer to Brock. The prince didn’t even flinch, just flicking his eyes up and back down to his apples.

"You can't do anything else to me." Brock said casually, giving a small shrug to the king- unfazed by the cane that was pointed straight at him. "It's not a challenge. I'm just telling you it's not worth your time."

_ "You're useless."  _

"Probably."

_ "How dare you talk down to me like-" _

"Dude." Brock glanced up from the sliced apples with an eyeroll, the most emotion he's shown in days. "I don't care."

Craig vanished after that, and Brock chuckled dryly, idly wondering where the king had fucked off to, ultimately deciding  _ he didn’t care. _

He popped a small piece of apple into his mouth, chewing as he started to organize the rest into a perfect swirl. It lacked any creativity, no small mishaps, just a perfect pie he chucked into the oven. 

He had managed to get the bird nest down, carrying it outside to a nearby tree. The birds had tucked themselves into it, chirping angrily at him, but he had been glad for lack of noise in the small cottage.

It was quiet. Bland. The house was as hollow as his heart, the trinkets and small sentimental memorbilia ignored by tired hazel eyes as he did a sweep through of the house. He stuck around in the living room to snag a spell book before he went back to the kitchen, flipping through the pages with speed and efficiency. 

The only thing he really was good at now; magic. No emotions to get in the way of his control, and well.

Maybe it was time to live up to stereotype; heartless witch in the middle of the woods.

He passed the days, eating and sleeping when he realized he hadn’t done so for a while, crunching down on apples and berries while flipping through the spell book. 

It barely took any effort. 

The prince practiced the spells until they were natural to his hand, and his garden loved him for it, unnaturally speedy in their growths. There was always a fire burning in the fireplace, and small bulbs of magic hung around the cottage for light.

His only companion was a lonely raven; dark as the night with haunting eyes in a pastel blue. He would sit on the windowsill and caw until Brock gave him a pet or treat, but it was more to shut him up than anything. The raven brought him things; shiny rocks, twigs, twine and feathers that certainly didn't belong to him.

He didn't blink twice at the white swan feather, just put it in the pile with his bird's other things.

Ohm sighed, twisting a single feather inbetween his fingers. The kingdom was set back in place as was his arm- this was the only piece of that life he had left. 

One feather, and an aching soul to go with. 

Mark was right; it had hurt- more than the first time. But two arms and the feelings of a phantom wing that occasionally plagued him, usually when it was cold or in the dead of night, was worth it.

The castle was hexxed weekly by Mark and Gorilla, keeping Craig's spirit from entering until they could find a solution.

He was quieter than he used to be, especially after their friends left to go back to their own kingdoms. Even if they did want to stay, kingships and duties called, drawing them apart with promises of being back.

Jack and Brian had been the most reluctant to leave, teary eyes and hearts aching. But there was no excuse that could keep them any longer, and so they had to go back to Brian's kingdom.

They left Brock's love behind.

"Wh-why are you giving this to me?" Ohm had asked on their last night. Brian's icy eyes looked melted in the candlelight, painful in comparison to the cold sky blue of Jack.

"Ye were the first one he loved, Ohm." Brian said quietly. "We might have known him first, but yer the one who kept him safe. Who brought him to us. It belongs to you."

The glass heart now rested on a pillow in the bedroom, and it made Ohm's arm ache in phantom pain every time he had looked at it.

Mark would occasionally stop into ths room to look at the trinket, trying not to think about how many times glass had kept him away from love, and that this time was no exception.

Luke's first order back as royal husband was to get rid of the that god awful bylaw that stopped him from taking over in case of an emergency. Things just spiraled on from there when more laws were brought to light, mostly aimed at inhumans and creatures like himself. 

He needed to stick up for them- still segregated even in a safe kingdom like theirs.

He found one file deep in the Lawmaster’s archives that made his blood boil.

_ No inhuman creature shall marry a human. _

Well, fuck that, he’d already broken that law, and brining it to Ohm’s sight had it gone within a day, but he still kept his eyes peeled for things like it. 

He wasn’t sure how many of these laws were still active, but each one made him angrier. 

_ Shall not serve in the kingdom’s army _

_ Shall not offer their services to the royal family _

_ Shall not reach a population higher than the human one _

Each law was destroyed. Literally, and physically, when the next full moon came around and he happily shredded paper between his teeth.

And he had to fight tooth and nail with the politics of the matter too- and maybe he used his intimidation to his advantage, but Luke would scream at any mayor or counselor if it meant he could get these shitty laws revoked.

Days turned into weeks of fighting but god was it worth it; fae and faries alike stopping by the castle with gifts and blessings for the royal two, as well as ogres, a centuar or two- and John made sure Luke knew his dragon friends were so appreciative for the efforts made as well.

Ohm was incredibly proud of his husband as well, showing his appreciation for his husband in more than a few interesting ways. 

Life was good. It hurt, and there was a Brock sized hole in their lives, but life was good. 

Smiity and John brought the news one day. The two were still adventuring, but occasionally visited to offer advice and treasure, and this time they brought advice. 

“They want to throw a celebration for y’all.” John lounged in his dragon form in the throne room, Smiity sitting on his head. “Like. Full on celebrebration.”

"A fairy festival?" Luke asked, his furrowed brows turning quickly to wide eyes. "Holy shit, that's a huge fucking honor."

"Well you've gotten rid of all the laws that opress us magical motherfuckers." A drawl with clawed hands to emphasize his point, "Gotta invite  _ everybody _ , dude. These guys don't mess around."

“You’re serious? Everyone?” Ohm massaged his temple. “I mean, I get why, but how many fae are in the kingdom?

“A lot more than you think. But as long as you send one invite to one fae and address it to everyone, you should be good.”

“John, how do you know so much about the fae messaging system?”

"Don't tell Smitty-"

Hard to when the guy was perched on his head.

"-But I dated a fae or two back in my day. Parties are a  _ huge  _ thing to them so you gotta make sure to take the necessary precautions- I mean like hire a whole team of courriers, man." 

"I- okay. Alright, I trust you."

“Wait.” Luke narrowed his eyes. “ _ Back in your day _ ? I thought Smiity and Ohm helped hatched you.”

The claws curled under John’s body, wings folding around him. “We were in exile for a while.” A toothy grin. “Ha! That rhymed.”

“I forget you’re younger than me.” Ohm grumbled. “Whatever. I’ll let the couriers know to expect the additional business.”

“And they’re snobs about food.”

“Well that’s nothing new, I’m married to Ohm.” Luke pressed a kiss to his husband’s hair when he let out an offended squawk, chuckling deeply. 

The king still pouted. “I was the one who literally ate so much I was brainwashed. I’m not a snob.”

"You are a damn picky bitch don't even try to tell me otherwise." Luke booped Ohm's nose as he spoke. "Mister I want rice and  _ cheese- _ "

"I was- I was hungry! Leave me alone." The playful tone Ohm used made Luke just a little bit happier- glad to see his husband was slowly but surely getting into better spirits after the ordeal. 

"Alright, sugar. I won't tease you anymore." He looked towards John and Smitty. "But we do need to get him a new outfit, right?"

"I call dibs on taking him shopping." John immediately said, blowing smoke out of his nostrils. "Fashion is my thing."

"John, you're a dragon."

"I thought we were past that point in our history, Smiity. Haven't you heard? You aren't allowed to be speciest anymore."

"I'll be taking my own husband shopping, thank you very much." Luke drawled. "But you two are welcome to tag along."

The two agreed to go out the next day, claiming to be too tired to go shopping that night. Ohm and Luke left them in the throne room, the were scooping his husband up in his arms and planting a kiss over his mating mark.

"I'm proud of you." He muttered.

"I'm prouder of you than you are of me."

"Don't make me say that I'm prouder of you than you are prouder of me of being proud of you." 

"Hey Toonzy?"

"Yeah?"

"That was nonsense." 

"I know." Luke kissed him again anyways, fingers grabbing for the hem of his shirt with a devilish smirk and beautiful eyes. "Cuz I'm crazy about you."

Ohm let the hands roam under his tunic, giggling when Luke's fingers brushed against his weak spot.

"Glad we're on the same page."

They kissed, exchanged loving words and were off to bed- wrapped up in one another oh so tightly.


	12. Mirror Mirror, Long Time No See

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dab

Brock scowled as he disentangled his rosebush, two stems of the flowers wrapped up in one another. Had he had his heart, he would have let then grow together for sentimental reasons.

But love was for children, and Brock couldn't be immature even if he tried.

His trusty raven swooped down- and Brock was starting to grow something for the bird. Content? Certainly wasn't fondness, but the pretty bird brought him all sorts of things.

Including the small bit of paper that was dropped in the dirt beforr him.

"What have you found for me today, Sark?"

The bird squawked and pecked at the shiny paper- embroidened with gold and silver.

An invitation; certainly not addressed to him.

He picked up the paper, not bothering to be delicate with it. Sark crowed at him, swooping to land on his shoulder. 

His robe’s sleeves pooled at his elbows, the handmade clothing soft against his skin as he read over offending words. He read the introduction a few times, moving onto the general invite. 

_ To all fae, fairies, and other beings of the Southern kingdom, _

_ You are humbly invited to the party and celebration of Kings Ryan and Luke Ohmwrecker, to congratulate them on their work to help the oppressed inhumans of the Southern kingdom.  _

_ We hope you can join us at the royal castle on the winter solstice, from 8am to midnight, and join our gifts of thankfulness to the kings. _

Brock chewed his lip idly as he read it for the last time, finally turning away from his garden and striding inside. Sark stayed firm on his shoulder, the crow’s squawking the signal he wanted to be fed for his work. 

“Yes, yes, give me a second.” He muttered, setting the paper on the table. Sark kept up his constant barrage of noise until Brock held a berry out for him, greedily gobbling it up.

Sark got a few more treats before Brock turned back to his work, anger slowly rising in his chest like a pot starting to boil over a burning hearth. 

Calm rage made him trail his fingers over the lettering, watching as the paper charred wherever his hands touched.

"I know things went badly with them," He started- talking to no one in particular (mostly Sark). "But you'd think I'd get commom courtesy after all that's happened. Hel, has anyone even tried to visit me?" He scoffed, grabbing another berry for his ravenette. "Oh this simply won't do."

Sark made a babbling noise, grabbing the berry and swooping up to the rafters with an agitated squawk. 

Brock stood there, slowly simmering and stewing in his own anger until he grabbed the paper and crumpled it into a ball, catching it on fire. 

The next spot was his spellbook, flipping it open to the marked page- the curses. They had been one of the last things he’d learned, but the one he picked up the easiest. And he had just the perfect spell to show his gratitude for the kings. 

“Sark.” He called, reaching up to rub at the horns jutting from his head. “Do you think I should wear black or gold to the celebration?”

“I think red is a lovely color on you.” Luke said patiently. “I’ve based your pet name off of it, but this is just...  _ too  _ much red.”

Ohm sighed, unclasping the cape he had tried on, looking down disdainfully at cranberry and flames mixing together in the fabric. “Should I even wear red? I mean, that’s kind of your color too, I don’t want us to look too matchy matchy.”

"Aren't we uhhhhhhhh," Luke drawled out the word sarcastically. "I dunno, married?" Luke shook his head and walked over to their wardrobe, their shopping already tailored and ready to be worn. He pulled out a white dress tunic and pants to go with, grabbing a dark crimson cape and placing the clothes on that. "Try this on for me, sugar?"

"Toonzy," He tried to whine but Ohm was getting desperate- not fashionable enough on his own to pick out the perfect outfit for himself. 

"You wear white and red and I'll wear red and white. Sound good? Good, now try the damn thing on."

He pouted, but threw on the clothes, smoothing them out and looking at Luke. “Good?”

“Ravishing.” Luke growled playfully, winking at his husband. Ohm’s cheeks color, and it’s nice to see his husband get flustered by the same things as when they first got married. 

The red flush slowly fades to a pink as Luke tries on his clothes, and it’s gone by the time they’re walking to dinner. 

“Luke?” Ohm says quietly. He leans his head on his husband’s shoulder, and Luke looks down to see sad green. 

“Yes, darling?”

“Should we have tried to find Brock?”

"I think it's a bit late for that, darlin-"

"It's not too late!" Ohm snapped, stopping dead in his tracks in the middle of the corridor. "I- I- god we were so concerned abour getting me back to normal... I just... I can't stop thinking about it- i-if I had went after him instead of trying to fix myself than maybe he'd still  _ be  _ here. And I wouldn't have to see Mark mope- o-or read Brian and Jack's sad letters. Or pass by an empty room. Not have my best friend. Craig fucked us all over and we just blamed Brock like we'd always wanted a reason to throw him under the trough."

“Don’t fucking say that.” Luke’s voice slips into a agitated whisper. “None of us blamed him. He lost his fucking ability to  _ love _ , and if he wanted to come back, we’d let him.”

“And what if he doesn’t want to come back because we didn’t look for him?”

“Then that’s his own problem!” Luke snaps, and takes a deep breathe. “Ryan, we can’t blame ourselves for what happened in the past. We have to move forward and learn from mistakes.”

Ohm didn't seem particularly thrilled with his husband's answer, storming forward to the dining hall without Luke at his side. It just felt wrong- afterall, Brock always did give  _ everyone  _ a second chance including Luke- and not giving Brock another chance made guilt tear up his stomach.

Dinner is... chilly, especially when it’s only the two of them. John and Smiity are two towns over, helping send invitations, but Ohm wished they were here tonight, help relieve the tension. 

The unhappy mood follows them to bed, and they sleep as far apart as they can on the mattress. 

Or rather, Luke sleeps. Ohm stays awake, wallowing in guilt. Speaking of his mistakes has opened the dam, and he suffers quietly throughout the night, arm twitching in excruciating pain.

He's groggy and exhausted the next morning, and it seems like Luke recognizes it at the very least. He doesn't apologize, the stubborn bastard, but he gently kisses Ohm's forehead in something that feels like they made up. 

It's easy to distract himself with party planning, the king throwing himself into his work in a vain attempt to work the awful feeling in his stomach away. All he wants is to take a walk, let the trees and pine soothe him; visit an old cottage and pay remembrence to an old friend.

But he's so busy. So tired. Ohm never finds the time.

Winter slips closer and closer, snow falling in flurries that make the stone castle chilly and drafty, makes Ohm more tired. 

And suddenly, it’s the solstice. The shortest day of the years goes by in a blast, and morning passed without a trace, starting 8am with a gaggle of fae that poured into the castle.

The fae got to work- despite already having decorations set in place they string more tinsel and wreaths through the castle- baubles of light hanging from the ceiling and rafters like stars in the night sky. The other creatures make it before the humans do; and Ohm's castle is suddenly  _ full  _ and lively like it hadn't been in ages.

Eventually the others do show up- all bringing gifts and smiles as they greet the two kings. 

"Fancy meeting ye here." Jack says, bringing Ohm in for a hug as he enters- Brian for once not as his side. Jack's dressed far nicer than Ohm had ever seen him, and it's a nice surprise.

"You look good, huntsman." 

"It's Sir Jack now, actually." The man says with a grin and a shrug, eyes lighting up when Mark suddenly appears from the woodwork.

"Sir Jack Off, you mean."

“Oh, righteously fohk off.” But he still brings Mark in for a lengthy kiss that has Ohm clearing his throat. “Brian said to kiss ye extra well.”

“Oh.” Mark looks dazed, but he still blushes. “He can’t make it?”

Jack shakes his head, removing a small box from under his cloak. It’s bright green, about the size of a dinner plate. “We’ve got some diplomacy issues wit’ some ogres- him leaving would mean having t’start from scratch wit’em.”

“That’s a shame.” Luke links arms with Ohm. “We would’ve like to see him.”

“I know. Do ye fohkers have t’be formal all day? Sounds exhausting.”

“It is.” Ohm agrees. “But it’s for the people. Go, enjoy yourselves. Mark, you’re off official duty for tonight.”

"I hoped I would be." Mark chuckles but thanks Ohm anyways, grabbing his own present along with Jack's and handing them off to the couple. "Now I know for a fact my present is better than Jack's-"

"Ye don't even know what I got'em!"

"I don't have to know." Mark sticks his tongue out at his boyfriend. "Mine's magic-"

"Alright thank you for the gifts, you two have fun squabbling." Ohm bids them both a quick goodbye with a smile to boot and suddenly Luke is dragging him away- a million people to see and greet and far too much food to try.

They moved through the crowd, being talked at from all directions, but Ohm is nothing if not a multitasker. He hears stories from different types of fae, stories of being hunted, of family gone, of hope. 

He’s wary when the first gift is offered- no box, no wrapping, just a golden ring. He grew up next to a haunted forest, he knows the rules of creatures and fae, but the quiet words of “Please, it’s free, it’s a gift,” have him sliding the ring on. 

They come in full force after that. 

He’s lost sight of Luke but that’s okay, his husband probably receiving the same treatment as him.

  
  


He feels a little awkward with so much praise his way and so many gifts too- but they're lovely, no matter how big or small. 

He tears up when a flower crown is placed over his bronze one, angrec and bay wreath making his chest swell in pride and honor. The day falls quickly, the sun bathing the ballroom is a gorgeous orange glow that makes the snow outside glitter like topaz- Ohm's a bit enamoured by the sunset, and smiles when he sees his husband in the reflection of the glass. The two snuck away and hide behind a velvety curtain, sharing kisses before dinner and the first formal dance of the evening. 

"You ready to go back out there, sugar?"

"If you're by my side I will be."

They share one more kiss- a desperate, needy kiss that has Luke keening before they pull apart. 

“I think I’m supposed to give a speech.” Ohm mutters, leading Luke back out to the party. “I didn’t prepare a speech.”

“Just wing it.” Luke snorts when Ohm gives him a glare, flexing his arm unconsciously. “Short and sweet, just like you.”

“Make one more goddamn pun about me and you’re sleeping on the ground tonight.”

They take the first seats at the table, Ohm at the head and Luke to his right, Mark and Jack to his left. Smiity and John joined the party at some point, but they’re far down the table, gaining a small following of their own with their jokes. 

Ohm smiles at the sight before turning back to the fae who’s sat next to Luke. 

Conversation is nice, a bit limited with the seating arrangements, and Ohm sighs when the dinner comes to an end and he’s forced to stand and hit the side of his goblet with his spoon.

All eyes turn to him, and maybe it's the sweet wine but he has a bit of confidence surge through him, a smile overtaking his features as he speaks.

"My husband Luke has done so much to get the kingdom to where it needs to be." He sends pretty eyes his husband's way, heart swelling shen he sees Luke holding back tears. "Luke is the person who made everything possible. He fought tooth and nail to abolish the laws set in place by the late Redford Barrus, fought day and night to make sure the fae and the creatures of this land could finally live in peace. I could never put into words how grateful I am for him. I owe him everything; I owe him my heart-"

"Your heart? That can be arranged." 

Words all too familiar accompanied with the sound of wooden doors being slammed open by some unknown force.

It's Brock, looking far too regal and sinister as he stands in the doorway- adorned in black and gold, black horns leading his entrance as he steps into the dining hall. There's a raven on his shoulder. 

His eyes are cold. 


	13. Mirror Mirror, A Curse for a King

All eyes are turned on him, no one even blinking when the goblet in Ohm's hand shatters on the stone tiled floors. No one speaks, so Brock takes it upon himself to continue.

"Well well, oh dear what an awkward situation." The raven on his shoulder chirps in response. "I'm quite distressed to not receive at least an invitation."

“Brock?” Ohm whispers, moving around the table. Mark and Jack are already out of their seats, but they haven’t moved. 

The king starts to trot towards his friend, breaking into a full sprint as he darts towards his friend, cape flapping wildly behind him. 

He crushes Brock in a hug, arms wrapping around his friend, but he’s quickly shoved off by the prince. Cold hazel, like a frostbitten forest, narrows at him. 

“An odd difference between this and not coming to visit.” Brock takes a step to the side, then forward, moving around Ohm and looking down the table. “Oh, hello, darlings.”

The bitter bite of the words has Jack’s knife drawn. 

The prince chuckles, and he’s suddenly across the room, gripping the knight’s wrist in an unbreaking grasp, forcing him to drop the dagger. “Be kind, Jackaboy. You’ve already insulted me enough.”

"Brock let go-" Jack's surprised when the grip is gone in an instant, Brock already walking down the table, passing Mark without a single glance.

"Is that how you did it, Jack? Let me go, just like that?" A sneer was thrown behind his shoulder but Brock kept walking, heels clicking loudly on the floor. "Ran off with prince charming- who couldn't even make it, it seems. I'm not surprised, he always did have a tendency to show up whenever he pleased." No trace of warmth left in him; not his eyes or his tone. "I at least figured Mark would sympathize with me, but he moved on just as easily as you did."

Mark’s lips are thinned, pressed together in discomfort and fear, forcing him to stay silent. Brock casts a look at him and scoffs, moving to Luke’s side of the table. 

“And my, oh, my. I do bet you regret leaving me alone in that cell, hm? Lock up a prince, release a witch.” He turns to his crow, petting its small head. The thing crows appreciatively. 

“Brock, what are you-“

“Hush hush, let the smart ones talk.” Brick sneers. He turns to Smiity and John, frozen down the table. “And not even a thank you? I don’t know what I expected, not when Ohm helped to raise you, but I did hope you would learn.”

“Brock.” Ohm’s voice is shaky, but it’s still royal. Kingly. “What are you doing here?”

Brock tilts his head up, horns catching the candlelight and shining brightly. “You blamed me for the last evil witch’s doing, so what will you do now that  _ I’m  _ the evil witch?” He leans against Ohm’a chair with a pout.

He gives Ohm a second to answer but the king finds he can't, heart clenching painfully in his chest as the words wash over him. Brock moves away from his chair, snagging his crown right from his head.

"I can't believe Craig wanted this old thing. Don't worry, I've taken care of him too. Didn't want the nuissance getting in my way." The bronze clatters to the floor loudly and rolls, but Brock doesn't even look as he continues on his trek until he's in the center of the room, the candles going out wherever he walks. "I'm glad I gave away my heart. Made me smarter, no longer the sentimental fool who let you all take from me." His head is tilted back ever so slightly, elegant and deadly as he raises a hand to brush Sark's feathers. "I did come with one last gift for you, Ryan. It's the last thing you'll ever be getting from me."

“Brock-“

“I wonder, did you find my flowers in the cell?” The witch muses. “Oh well. Enjoy them.” He flicks his hand, and Ohm’s eyes go wide as a white swan feather is in his fingers. 

The feather crumbles to dust in his fingers, falling to the floor with a puff of breath. 

There’s a moment of silence, the royalty and guests holding their breath in anticipation, Brock smirking. 

For a second, Ohm thinks he’s shaking. The rattling of the table proves him wrong. 

A leaf bursts from the stone, followed by a stem, followed by bright red petals. 

A poppy.

Another flower sprouts up from the floor, stems weaving their way through the small cracks between the stones. Dozens of poppies. Hundreds. Thousands; beautiful and blindingly red. Ohm doesn't notice it at first, his eyes trained on the flowers that start pushing through the slats in the walls and winding up chairs and furniture. A thud, followed by another and more accompany them. He finally looks up to see the entire grand hall is unmoving- eyes closed and breathing so softly Ohm was afraid they weren't breathing at all.

"Bring back memories, Ryan?" Brock picked a flower from the ground, tucking it behind his ear with graceful movements. "Are you going to bury them too? Leave them to rot in a glass coffin? Oh, but they're just sleeping. You can't wake them up this time, though."

“What did you do?” Ohm’s eyes caught on Luke, his pup, his mate, barely moving.  _ “What did you do?” _

The witch rolled his eyes, moving back toward the door- the only thing in the room now not covered in poppies. “Do quit being so dramatic. I’m not heartless.” He chuckled. “Well, I am, but not in this context. They’ll eventually wake up, you just can’t do anything about it.”

Ohm stalked toward his old friend, blood boiling under his skin. “Tell me.”

“If you insist.” Brock went back to petting his crow, the bird squawking louder the closer Ohm got. “If you die, they wake up.”

The king goes still, horror plain as day written on his face. 

“So let me explain this for you, in case you didn’t get it.” Brock moved faster than Ohm can comprehend, gripping his chin in between his finger and thumb. “You now get to live out the rest of your miserable life alone, no one to rule, no one to love. You get to live like me until you die of starvation or old age, and I couldn’t care less which one. But the second you crumble, everyone here wakes up, and gets to realize you’re gone, that you died alone, and they’ll despair.” Brock grins, canines much sharper than they used to be. “Sounds fun, doesn’t it?”

Ohm pushed him away, Brock cackling as he let the action happen, cooing to his now frazzled raven with a mocking tone.

"Don't get angry with me, Ohm. This is your own doing. No one believed me when I said Craig was here, they locked me up. I sacrificed  _ everything  _ I had to get you all back and I'm ignored? Cast aside?" He stalked back over and placed a hand on Ohm's cheek, nails slightly digging into the soft flesh there. "Did any of you even love me in the first plac, or did my well run dry and you all hopped ship when you realized I had nothing left to give you." A pause, hazel eyes holding so much hurt and anguish before they steeled back into the cold rage Ohm had seen before. "All I feel is pain. And now, so do you. Enjoy the rest of the party." 

And he was gone.

Brian was having the fucking  _ worst night of his life _ . The ogres he was trying to placate were angrier than usual, Tom kept talking his ear off, and there was an ache in his back from sitting in his throne for too long. 

He collapsed back onto his bed with a sigh, hoping he could get some rest, even without Jack. 

Of course, the world didn’t want him to be happy. 

Harried knocking at his door, the captain of his guard rushing in without asking. Normally, he would’ve understood, but he was so frustrated he scowled at her as he rushed in. 

“What?”

“Reports from the Southern kingdom, your Majesty.” 

Brian rubbed at his head, frowning at the title. “Spit it out, quick.”

"A message from King Ohm sent by carrier pigeon- I- sir-" The captain looked over the letter once more with confusion etched onto her face like nobody's business. "This doesn't make any sense." 

"Give it here please fer fohks sake." He held his hand out and she gladly handed the parchment over.

He scanned over the parchment with a frown, noting the shaky handwriting, like Ohm had been in a rush. His eyes caught on a certain word, however, and his eyes went wide. 

_ Help. Brock’s back, not good, everyone asleep _

“I’m going to kill him.” Brian muttered. Would it kill his fellow king to write a more detailed letter? One that didn’t leave his heart pounding with fear and dread? “I’m actually going to kill him.”

“Sir?” His captain asked, and Brian sighed deeply, swinging out of bed. 

“Tell the stable to prepare my horse, and alert Tom he’ll be taking over the ogre negotiations. I’ll be gone for a while.”

"I- of course, your majesty."

Well, it was a good thing the ogres liked Tom better than the king himself, so Brian didn't feel too bad for leaving. It would take a while to get the Southern kingdom in the dead of night, especially with the snow and god knows what was in the forest.

But he would make it- even if it took all night.

Ohm paced nervously on the border of the kingdom. Trying to cross it had resulted in a burn, a nasty blister on his hand, and he knew better than to try again. He hoped it wouldn’t prevent Brian from crossing over, but his nerves still spiked whenever a poppy brushed against his leg. 

He was ashamed to admit he had  _ ran _ , fled the castle and its sleeping inhabitants like it was the plague, not stopping until he reached the village. 

The sight of more people fast asleep sent him running again. 

Running, far, far away, until he reached a village on the border of his land, people still fast asleep. He hadn’t known what to do, but had grabbed parchment, charcoal, and wrote out a messy note, grabbing a pigeon labeled  _ North  _ and hoped it would make it. 

And now here he was, wondering if it was the best idea. 

After all, Brian loved Brock.

His eyes widened when the sun slowly rose, and with it came Brian- looking a lot worse for wear than Ohm thought he would. His horse was fine which was good, and the second Brian met his gaze he hopped off of Leonard with a heavy sigh.

"I-I'm not sure if you should come any closer." Ohm called, anxiety spiking at the thought of his last hope passing out the second he crossed kingdom lines.

“What, gonna turn me into a fohkin swan?” Brian replied, moving closer. 

Ohm held up his hand, the burn bright pink against his pale skin. “This is what happened when I tried to cross.”

That certainly stopped Brian in his tracks, the king raising an eyebrow at his friend. Leonard whinnied anxiously, the horse pulling on his owner’s reins- at what, it was unsure. 

“The fohk happened?” Brian finally demanded. “Send me a piss poor letter for help, Brock’s back and people are sleeping, and yer trapped by fohkin’ poppies! Seriously, Ohm?”

“It’s not my fault!” The king protested. “Okay, well it kinda is-“

Brian huffed and stepped forward, letting go of the reins and putting a hand through the seemingly invisible wall- Ohm opening his mouth to protest but it was too late. When nothing seemed to happen the king leaned in further, pulling back quickly to see if he could before he fully crossed the threshhold. 

"Great, I'm here. Can ye show me what happened if ye can't explain it?"

And so that's what Ohm did- he brought Brian back to the castle, Leonard whinnying sadly as he trotted off towards the woods.

The strangled sound that left Brian’s throat when he saw his lover’s fast asleep wrenched at Ohm’s heart. The king rushed over to Jack first, then patted Mark’s cheek, icy blue furious as they looked at Ohm. 

“Wake them up.”

The swan king scowled. “Do you want to be the one to kill me? I’m sure Brock would  _ love  _ that.”

"What?"

"Brock stormed in- looking like a burnt goat- nd cursed my kingdom!" Ohm threw up his hands, walking over and angrily kicking at his discarded crown in the sea of poppies. "He says everyone wakes up when I die."

"Fohking  _ jæsus  _ Ohm." 

"You're telling me!"

“Did he say anyt’ing else?” Brian asked, sitting down heavily on the table. “Anyt’ing?”

“He hates you.”

“Of course.”

“And he’s in constant pain.” Ohm shuddered, toeing at the slightly dented bronze. “He barely  _ looked  _ like himself-not even counting the horns, and sure as hell didn’t act like himself.”

"Horns?" Brian squeaked, letting himself sit heavily on one of the unoccupied chairs, his pretty face buried in his hands. "This is a fohking disaster, it seems."

"Uh huh." More silence filled the room, both Brian and Ohm trying desperately not to look at the sleeping faces of the fae and friends that sat slumped at the table. Brian suddenly looked up with wide eyes, an unexpected glare thrown Ohm's way.

"Don't ye fohkin dare even  _ tink  _ about trying to save everyone with death."

The silence that weighed over them only made Brian angrier. “Ohm-“

“It... it crossed my mind, okay? But I couldn’t do that to everyone.” Ohm kept his eyes trained on Luke’s sleeping form. “I couldn’t do that to him.”

The king huffed, pushing platters and people away from him. “Good on ye- keep that up. But why’d ye call me?”

“Honestly?” Ohm ran his hands through his hair, flashes of feathers running through his mind. “I was panicking and I thought you could help.”

"I mean- I'm glad ye messaged me but..." Brian tapped on the wooden table with a sigh before he let his hands fall in his lap, looking up with sad blue eyes. "Gods, I don't know what th'fohk to do." 

"I can't leave." Ohm's voice sounded hollow in his own ears. "I'd say we find Brock but I  _ can't _ leave."

"Maybe he doesn't want to be found."

“Maybe I don’t want to be cursed to die.” Ohm said lowly. “And he bitched plenty enough about how we never came to visit.”

“Fine. Fine!” Brian ran his hands through his hair. “Here’s the plan: I go find Brock, ye stay here.”

"If you think you can get through to him, be my guest." Ohm bent down and grabbed the crown, a few poppies already tangled around the prongs of the bronze . He shook them off and set the crown on the table, his bent reflection staring sadly back at him. "Brian?"

"Yeah?"

"Whose in the right, here?"

Brian stopped himself before he could answer  _ Brock _ , his dedication to his lover still there, even after he cursed an entire kingdom. 

“I... I don’t tink there is a right, Ohm.” He said quietly. “Brock is definitely in the wrong. He can’t just curse innocent people cause yer bitter. But... we didn’t go look for him.”

“I wanted to.” Ohm said. 

“But did ye?”

The king didn't answer, shaking his head and hoping his tears weren't dripping down his cheeks. 

"No, I didn't." 

"Me neither." Brian brought his knees to his chest, his crown nearly tilting off of him. "Just got..."

"Busy?"

"Yeah."

More silence.

“How can we be too busy for love?” Ohm scowled. “Because I love Brock. I really do- he’s my best friend, pretty much my brother. But how did I get too busy to realize he was  _ missing  _ and wanted to come back?”

"I don't know." They stayed in the uncomfortable silence for a few more minutes before the silver king stood, letting out a shaky breath as he pressed a kiss to Jack's forehead, then Mark's. He gave Ohm a passing hug and thankfully had supplies already packed in his bag- so it was just a simple matter of walking past hundreds and thousands of poppies. Wishing for a different past- both he and Ohm cried; the king in his castle and the other king in blooming fields of bright red poppies.


	14. Mirror Mirror, We Make Mistakes

Brock hummed as he wrote. Casting spells had become  _ boring _ , so simply easy. A curse over an entire kingdom had left him unfulfilled, so here he was, making up spells. 

Finally, a challenge. 

The first one had been a tester, a simple spell that had changed one of his rose bushes into a mess of honeysuckle vines. He was surprised to learn the spell didn’t exist yet, but he supposed transformation spells were hard enough as they were for regular people. 

And speaking of transformation spells... he was having fun with this new one. 

Sark swooped through the window with a call, landing and hopping on Brock’s table. 

“Hello, Sark.” He said quietly, looking up for the handmade book. “What have you brought for me this time?”

The witch rolled his eyes after a minute, shooing Sark off of the table and muttering a spell Sark's way- his bird no longer a bird after a moment, draped in nearly the same dark black and gold clothes that he was in.

"What do you have for me?"

Sark easily bounded to his feet, a bright smile on his face in contrast to Brock's neutral expression. "Your king is on his way!"

Brock clicked his tongue in displeasure, closing his spellbook with a snap. “Prince Charming. Late, as always.”

“Left the castle last night.” Sark chirped. “Headed straight for us.”

“He never learns, does he?” Brock muttered under his breath, standing. His horns scraped the wall behind him as he pushed in his chair, and he tilted his head at the once-odd feeling, now normal. “Well, I’ll just have to teach him a lesson, won’t I, Sark?”

"I guess so." A big smile and pep in his voice; and Brock smiled- whether it was hollow or not wasn't Sark's concern; just happy to help. "Do you want me to go track him?"

"No no, I'm sure he'll be here fairly soon. I might lead him around the woods for a while. You take a rest, dearie."

“Yes, Brock.” Sark grinned, and hopped upstairs- the tone in the witch’s voice meant he wouldn’t be sleeping that night. 

And indeed, he flipped his grimoire back open, landing on the page and spell he needed to find. 

A wicked grin spread across his face. 

Brian hacked his way through poppies, the flowers suffocating the natural flora with a vengeance. The only piece of luck he’d had so far was the flowers became less choking the further away from the castle he traveled, until he ran across a thick patch of red, gathered so closely together in a path so obvious Ohm would have been able to see it with his blindfold. 

So he followed it.

It maybe was stupid, but Brian ran on determination and stupid ideas- he saved his smart ideas for his kingdom.

Walking along the poppied path led him- well- everywhere. Winding through the trees where Brock always insisted they walk off the path, passing fields where they'd pick flowers and loo at the clouds during the day, pointing out constellations at night. He remembered Brock's bright laugh when Jack had pushed Mark into the creek- dragging them all into a water fight. Picnics at the lake. Picking peaches in the summer and sharing sticky sweet kisses. Horse back rises, singing along with the birds. 

His heart ached but he kept walking, picking poppies as he went and nervously trying to craft a flower crown that was even 1/10 as good as Brock's were.

Regret followed him with every step.

He found his hand drifting to his sword often enough he shoved it in his pocket (not like that made it anything better.)

He wandered the path until he became exhausted, eyes blinded with red and green until they weren’t, and he was looking at soft golden stalks instead. 

He looked up. 

A large wheat field, large enough to hold more than one dragon, and at the very end of the field, a house. 

Light shone through the windows. 

Brian swallowed, stilling his shaking hand and strode forward. No small bunny to greet him, no birds to sing to him, the place was empty. 

As empty as Brock’s heart.

He was cautious, the sun was just starting to set and with it came dusk rays; making the tips of the stalks look golden in the bright light. He kept walking until the cottage came into view- and with it rose bushes, somehow thriving just like the poppies. Bright and brilliant; what once were white and red roses now yellow and black, their thorns creeping up the side of the house like ivy. 

The house was lit. Not warm. Just lit for light.

He moved towards the steps nervously, foot barely touching the first step before the door was opened. 

It... wasn’t Brock. He couldn’t tell if he was relieved or not at that, but he still froze when the man’s blue eyes swept over him and broke out in a grin. 

“Ah! King Hanby, pleasure to meet you.”

“Um... likewise?” Brian said awkwardly. “Is Brock here?”

“Oh, he’s here.” The man agreed, but before he could say another word a burst of golden magic hit him in the back. 

“Sark, leave our guest alone.”

The man-turned-raven squawked and hopped off, pecking at Brock as he went. Then stood before the king was his prince- looking far more sinister and far hotter than he had any right to be. Brown hair turned black along with the deadly but elegant horns that sprouted from his forehead. Skin pale and grey, eyes beautiful and haunting and oh so lonely.

They held no love, but Brian knew why.

"Look whose last again, Hanby."

“Look who’s last? I thought I was first to visit you.” Brian snarked, moving forward until he was right in front of the door. “Hello, love.”

Brock’s lip quirked upward, dark dark grey exposing sharp pearly white. “Hello, Hanby. Would you like to come in?”

“I would love to.” He didn’t wait for the official invite before he brushed past the witch, the inside of the cottage freezing cold. “Shall we talk formalities or do ye want me t’get to business.”

His prince closed the door, hazel eyes gone, replaced with a bright yellow. “I prefer business. Much less feelings.”

"Feelings, huh?" Brian blinked and turned around, seeing the steely eyes which held nothing for him. 

"All pain. Hurt. Sadness. Anger. Wrath." He listed them off on manicured fingers, chest hollow like it always was; abandoned. "I've been here the whole time. Waiting for an invitation back, since none of you believed me. None of you thanked me. None of you looked for me."

“I know.” Brian said simply. An acknowledgment, an apology, and an accusation in one statement. “I know, Brocky.”

“I ought to turn you back into a swan and send you on your way.” Brock moved to his kitchen, his horns nicking the frame. “Pie?”

Brian chuckled. “Is it poisoned?”

“Do you want it to be?” Brock came back from the kitchen, holding the very obviously burning hot pan between bare hands. 

Show off. 

“Not particularly, especially since I was hoping to chat wit’ ye a little longer than that. Why are ye being so polite?”

“It’s always been me to be polite.” Brock straightens up. “I’m still Brock, Hanby. I’m just not the old Brock. Removed of love, probably for the better. Look at how far you’ll go for it.”

He set the pan down and went back to grab two plates, cutting two perfect slices and dishing them out before he sat with just as much elegance as he always had. 

It was apple, and Brian's stomach churned when Brock took the first bite, seemingly unfazed by the filling. 

"Hard to fear when you have nothing to lose." He shrugged and took another stab of the treat, bitter and tart tasting just how he felt. "Did I not love you all enough? Did I love you too much? Why did you all forget me like I was undeserving of a second chance, Brian? Jack and Mark were better lovers maybe?" A million questions asked in a cool and clipped tone.

“An awful lot of questions fer someone who doesn’t love.” Brian cautiously took a bite. It was delicious, but he was too focused on Brock to really digest the taste. 

“Humor my curiosity; it’s what takes over most days.”

Brian hummed thoughtfully before answering, deciding on honesty. “We got busy. We were turned back from swans, we had a understandable freak out period, and then we got busy. It’s no excuse fer not trying t’find ye, I know, but it’s all I have.”

The sound of metal on ceramic was grating to Brian's ear, but he just stared and waited for Brock to answer, the man with his eyes deadset on the pie in front of him as he ate. He finally put his fork down and stood from the table.

"I don't think that's good enough, Brian." It seemed his voice started to break- cracking at the end with hidden emotions coming to the surface; rage.

Cold and a void of pushed down rage. 

"I hate you. Ohm. Jack. Luke. Mark. You shouldn't have come here."

Brian sighed, still sitting. “No, I probably shouldn’t’ve, but I had to give you someting. Wasn’t right fer us to keep this locked away.” He drew his hand away from his pocket. A small glass heart rested in his hand, the illusion or reality of orange smoke inside of it still moving. 

Brock punched him.  _ Hard _ , hard enough to knock him out of his seat, landing on all fours and cheek stinging.

“You’re an asshole, Hanby.” He said, yellow eyes still cool. “I hope you know that, hope you know I hate you with every remaining part of my soul. As for love?” 

Brian could only watch as Brock’s heel raised over the heart, scattered from his hand in his fall. 

“This is what I think of love.” He hissed, and stomped downwards.

Brock's heel came down hard onto the pretty glass heart.

He was powerless to watch it shatter the heart further, pieces breaking off and falling to the ground.

"Don't let him shatter you." The words were said im mockery, Brock kicking the glass with a sneer as he stepped over the remaining pieces. "I didn't. Craig could never ruin me- can't hurt me more than he already did. And you can't hurt me anymore either. Not you, not Jack, not Luke or Mark or Ohm." Brock turned his back on the broken glass and the broken man on his floor, bringing the plates to the kitchen to be washed. "Would you like a gift before you go, your majesty?"

"Brock-" Brian tried, still holding his cheek even as he struggled to his feet- blue eyes shocked and filled with tears as his true love scoffed at him.

"A parting gift. Since I was locked up for days, I figure it's only fair to return the favor, Brian." 

His magic blossomed forth like ice and fire, powerful and so eerily calm. A challenge for Brock maybe, but the witch was fully up for the task.

He'd lock away his heart once more.

Brian barely had time to reach for Brock desperately, a last ditch grab for his love before he was sent away. 

“Goodbye, Hanby. Lets hope we don’t meet again.”

Brian blacked out. 

When he awoke, it was to... not the  _ worst  _ place he could’ve been in. He could’ve been dead, at the bottom of a moat, or somewhere else. 

But instead he seemed to be inside-

Well, he didn’t know what he was inside of. It looked like a tree, but there was no way in heaven or hell there could be a tree big enough to hold him. 

He scrambled towards the only window he could see, an oblong oval carved into bark, and stuck his head up. 

His first thought was that he was going to puke.

He was  _ far  _ up into the sky- could see the tops of other trees and let out a shaky breath, sloely scrambling back from the window. 

Brock was gone; his Brock at least- and now Brian didn't know how or if he could ever get him back.

He wept.


	15. Mirror Mirror, an Eye for an Eye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: MILD SUICIDAL JOKES, OHM IS HYSTERICAL

Luke was gone- at least for the moment. No amount of prodding could wake him up- and Ohm didn't know how or if he could ever get him back. He slept so soundly, his face calm and free of any stress or worry. He moved a few of them to the parlor- at least the ones he knew so he could keep an eye on his closest friends. He unfortunately had to leave John since he was in his dragon form.

Food also didn’t seem to be an issue- it had been a few days and not even his husband’s stomach had growled once. 

So he spent the days researching, writing notes, trying to figure out how he could solve this problem without dying. 

The cold look in Brock’s eyes haunted him during both waking and sleeping hours, bright yellow and hazel furious in the way a glacier was furious- slow, unwavering rage.

It dawned upon him at the end of the fourth night that it had been  _ four nights _

And he was still sans a companion- the prince charming not back from his voyage.

And that  _ scared  _ Ohm more than the sleeping people in his castle did- because it meant Brian was out there and not safe inside. 

So with a heavy heart and non-stop trembling hands, Ohm made a decision. He packed a bag and gave his husband a goodbye kiss before he ventured out onto poppy and snow covered grounds.

It was  _ cold _ , colder than beyond belief, an ache that set into his limbs by the first night he made camp. 

He had no clue, no answer where to go except the old cottage Brock had stayed at. Frankly, he was ashamed of not thinking of it earlier, but even if it wasn’t a lead, it would still be nice to visit. 

He looked up at the sky, snowflakes swirling down on his face, and sighed deeply. He couldn’t risk a fire, not when there were so many poppies that could catch fire around him. And he  _ missed  _ the warmth of a were by his side, replaced by a thin blanket. 

His eyes snagged on the horizon. Or rather, the fuzzy thing that rose  _ above  _ the horizon.

Far away from the cottage he was heading to- a tree Ohm was quite sure he had never seen before towered over the others; but it was hard to see in such dark and snowy lighting- and Ohm had to make a decision on were to head next. 

And once again, without really knowing it, he abandoned Brock once more and started off the next morning with the giant tree as his new destination.

The snow seemed to get thinner the closer he got, as thin as the poppies that were scattered along his feet. He didn’t feel bad about trampling the flowers beneath his feet, not when they were part of an evil creation, and so he made it closer to the tree with no issue. 

The closer he got, the larger he could see it was, jutting into the sky like the beanstalk Anthony had told him about a few times. He couldn’t see the top, nor could he see the bottom, just the thick trunk and jutting branches.

Reaching the trunk made ice seep through his veins along with sorrow, several beautiful and sad plants growing through the cracks in the tree trunk or just growing up the side of the bark. Worm wood, creeping willow, foxglove, morning glories and red dahlias- and Ohm spent enough time with Brock to know what each one of those flowers meant. His friend might be evil but Ohm realized his anger for the man was slowly melting; despite everything he had done. If the thorn burshes and flowers surrounding the base of the tree weren't proof enough at how much pain the man was in.

Abandoned in a cell like he was sure Craig had done. 

Blamed and forgotten.

Alone and now without the ability to love and be happy; filling with bitterness with no affection to chase the bad thoughts away.

It didn’t make him turn back- no, it only set his mind further into determination. He wanted to save his friend, prove he was worth his crown. Not just that. He needed to apologize. 

His hand dug into the bark, pulling him up. 

His lungs ached, his hands were full of splinters, and his head was starting to get dizzy.

It was a few few up that he realized just how deathly afraid of heights he really was; always sticking to the forest floor when he was a kid- never climbing trees or even daring to venture up a steep incline or hill.

And now he was going to climb this behemoth of a sapling because- 

because-

"Ohm? What the fohk are ye doing?!"

He nearly fell off the branch, and would have tumbled to the bottom if Brian hadn’t gripped him tightly by the cloak. Ohm’s hands scrambled for purchase on the tree, and he made the very bad mistake of looking down. 

“Oh my god oh my  _ god pull me up pull me up pull me up-” _

Brian strained, and Ohm found the lip of the entrance, pulling himself up as well until he tumbled inside the tree. 

They each took a shaky breath, Ohm’s arm starting to hurt again. 

“Really? Heights?”

"I didn't fohkin put meself up here!" The king argued, still holding onto a trembling Ohm with his dear life. "Jæsus, why the fohk did ye tink it was a good idea t'climb the fohkin ting?! How are we supposed to get down?!"

"I didn't think that far ahead!" He pushed himself off of Brian, fingers desperately smoothing the material of his cloak down in a vain attempt to try to call his erratic heartbeat.

“Yer an idiot,  _ Ryan _ .” Brian drags his free hand down his face, ignoring the scowl he gets from his friend. 

“Oh yeah? How’d you even get stuck in a tree,  _ Hanby _ ?”

“Are ye fohkin stupid? I went out t’find Brock, who do ye tink put me here?” Brian collapsed on a outcropping of wood. “He’s gone. We can’t save him.”

"What do you mean we can't save him?" 

Ohm knew Brian- had known the man for years and years at this point, and if Brian was one thing he wasn't a  _ quitter _ ; so seeing him look this... defeated made Ohm's heart sink to his stomach.

"He- I- I took his heart from yer castle. He smashed it and sent me on my merry fohkin way." Ohm watched Brian wipe furiously at his eyes, sniffles obvious in the confined space. "I royally fohked up and I'll never get my Brocky back."

“You took his heart?” Ohm said quietly, and a wet laugh escaped his chest, the man rubbing frantically at his eyes. “Well, I guess you stole his heart.”

“Really? Fohkin jokes?”

“It’s either this or crying.” But Ohm still rubs at his eyes until they’re red and tears spill over the edges. “Fuck, Brian, what were you thinking?” There’s no accusation, only sad acceptance. 

They’re both sobbing at this point, emotions heightened by stress and worry and forcing them into tears. Ohm’s cries sound more like honks, but Brian’s not going to tell him. 

Its a few minutes later when Brian’s tears dry, head and heart hurting. “Ohm, how do we fix this?”

"I-I  _ don't  _ know." A sob bubbles up from the man's chest and he pus his cape tighter around himself in a desperate grab for comfort. "That was my ace in the hole too."

"Welp." A pause, and Brian lays down fully so his pretty eyes are facing the ceiling, idly counting the rings on the roof. "We're fohked. I've lost 'em forever, and our friends are gonna be asleep forever. I'm going to be alone forever, yer gonna be alone forever."

"I can always toss myself out of the tree, if you want." Ohm says before moving to the hole. "Enough of a drop."

"Don't." Brian weakly calls, still staring at the ceiling. "Don't. Don't even joke about that, Ohm."

"Would you prefer I joke about giving myself up to Brock?" There's a hysterical tone to Ohm's voice, a small break that hides a much bigger hole in the dam. "Maybe I'll let him turn me into a swan again. Maybe he'll turn me into a roach and smash me, or maybe even gore me with his horns."

"Ohm-"

"I mean, it's not like I'm even important, huh? Just a bronze king, the lowest out of four, the newest, the weakest link, the-"

" _ Ohm _ ."

"-worst husband of the year! I don't know whose the worse best friend, me or Brock and at this point I'm too afraid to ask-"

Ohm yelps at the sudden sharp sting across his cheek, looking up with shocked eyes at Brian- who is far more calm than he has any right to be.

"Ye were gettin' hysterical on me. We both need to be fohkin sane if we wanna get this shit solved, okay?" 

His lungs managed to take a shuddering breath and he nodded, hands clenching and unclenching at the king's side- now for certain at a loss of where to go. He looked at Brian's cloak, then his own, and wondered how sturdy they'd be cut up and tied together; after all they just had to get down far enough to where the branches started out.

Brian has his sword, and Ohm has his dagger, and that's more than enough to cut up the two red cloaks. They make them maybe a little thinner than safe, but they'd never reach the branches otherwise.

Brian goes first, the heavier of the two, and therefore the better to test if it's faulty. But the cloaks hold, and Ohm strokes the red-dyed fabric with appreciation as Brian climbs down. He keeps a sharp eye on the jutting wood they've tied it to, relieved to see it hasn't slipped from the knot.

He peeks his head out the window, looking down at Brian. "Almost there!"

The king makes it down safely- at least onto thr lower branches, and he starts to climb down after giving Ohm the okay to go ahead. Brian keeps peering back at Ohm to make sure he's safetly mounted on the makeshift rope, satisfied when the other king starts his slow descent down the tree; much easier than his climb up.

Until it isn't. It's just as Ohm feared; he checked the branch a million times while Brian was climbing down, but he should have checked it one more time.

  
  
  


Mark sits up with a gasp- hands grabbing desperately for his eyes, feeling phantom pain strike full force through the oncoming vision.

He cries out in pain, feeling like sand is gritting into his eyes as he rubs at them, wading through the vision.

It's... much gorier than he's used to. There's blood everywhere, so much he can barely see, and then he doesn't. He just... feels. Experiences the pain of the vison until he can shake it away, finally getting a good look at his surroundings.

He's on a couch, his vision drawing him away from where he and Jack had been sleeping against each other. Luke is there, too, snoring softly like a puppy as he slumbers gently.

There's a note pinned to the floor with a dagger, and after a brief hesitation, he moves Jack off of him to look at it.

_ "If you're reading this, I'm dead. I love you, Toonzy _

_ -Ohm" _

Well. That's certainly not good- and with his premonition he's not feeling too good about the circumstances. The seer manages to stumble to his feet, landing ungracefully into a cluster of poppies which just leaves him with more questions than answers. But he thinks back through his hazy memory and the pieces all click together like a perfectly cut puzzle- and Mark knows exactly where to to. A cottage; one he's never been to before, but it's his best bet.


	16. Mirror Mirror, I Need A Hero

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: mild gore involving eyes

Screaming pain- Ohm just... screams, unable to do anything else except scream and claw at his eyes. He barely hears Brian over himself but the king is at his side, gently shooshing him and grabbing at his hands so he can't do anymore damage.

"Ohm, I need ye t'calm down." Brian quietly hushes him. "Yer only gonna make it worse."

"I can't see." Ohm sobs, clutching at whatever part of Brian he can feel. "Brian, I can't see-"

"Hey, sh, sh, sh." The king grabs his hands and holds them tightly. "That was a nasty fall ye took. Take some deep breaths fer me, okay?"

And he does- deep, rattling breaths that hurt to take between sobs, Ohm trying to see  _ anything _ . There's nothing to greet him except black and the memory of red filling his vision. It sets him off again, pain flaring up and making him cry.

Brian sighs, scooping his arms under Ohm and lifting him up, leading him away from the tree. He doesn't know if Brock has any spells to let him know if he escaped, but he doesn't want to stick around and find out.

Blood seeps between Ohm's fingers from where he's covering his eyes.

It's... gruesome. Brian leads him to a nearby crick, does his best to get rid of the thorns that scratch his friend's eyes. He soothes the burning ache and washes the blood away with frigid water.

"I'm gonna have t'bandage up yer eyes, okay Ohm? I can't let 'em get infected. Hold still please, I'm almost done."

"It hurts." Ohm whispers. "Brian, it  _ hurts _ ."

The king purses his lips at the childish way of saying it, wrapping the final bandage around his friend's head. "I know, Ohm. But ye gotta stay brave, okay?"

He gets a shaky okay, the swan king clutching Brian like he's Luke. Arms wrapped tightly around him, face buried into his shoulder.

"I miss Brock." Ohm's voice is muffled.

"I know," Brian pats his back in the most comforting way he can, rubbing circles over his tense shoulders and down his spine. "Me too, Ohm. Me too." 

He doesn't know how long they sit in the cold, Brian not wanting the jostle Ohm or god forbid ask him to stand and walk with him back to the castle. He waits until Ohm's passed out before he hoists the king into his arms, making sure the bandages are secure before he takes off.

He doesn't think he can fix any of the problems shoved his way, but for now Brian can at least try to fix this one; and he'll try as long as Ohm will let him.

After all, what else do they have to do for the next hundred years?

Mark hurries along the path, the vision quickly fading from his mind. He wants to make sure he knows his route before it's gone completely. Poppies crowd his feet as he struggles through, passing by trees and flowers alike covered in the evil little flower.

The first part of the vision is gone, but the memory of pain stays as a friends to the part of the vision he needs. He runs through it again, realizing he needed to take a left five paces ago, quickly altering his course.

He's never heard a forest be so... quiet.

It hurts not seeing the animals that usually thrive around Brock dip into hiding; no charm or grace or beautiful voice to lure them out. 

He's honestly not sure what would come out of his mouth if he's asked who the fairest of them all was, but deep down there was a part of him that would always say Brock no matter what the circumstances. 

He keeps running- until he's out of breath and only a little lost, but something in his gut is telling him that he's close; and Mark isn't going to lose love again to a little bump in the road.

He finally sees it about 20 minutes later.

A golden field of wheat, surrounded by poppies and fireflies. It's the first real sign of life he's given, and he catches one of the bugs on the way through the field to make sure it's real.

It brings him to the object of his attention, the small cottage on the edge of the field. He can see gardens in the back, rosebushes and honeysuckle, foxglove growing up the path to the door. It's lit, and that makes him more nervous than anything.

But he puts on a brave face and starts towards the cottage, a sense of deja vu coming over him despite never coming to the place before. The door is ajar when he walks in, and Mark peers in cautiously before he steps in completely- looking around at the cold and empty house, which is warmed by only one person at the moment.

"Hi." 

"Uh, hi."

It’s not Brock, that much is for sure, but he’s not quite sure who he is. He’s dressed in similar clothing to what Brock was wearing at the party, black and gold clinging to his smiley form. 

“I’m gonna guess you’re here for Brock.”

“Yeah.” Mark said quietly. “Is he here?”

"Nah, he went out for some spell ingredients." The man takes a few steps forward and holds out his hand to shake. "I'm Sark!"

"Er, Mark." Mark is nothing but polite and takes the man's hand, nothing how oddly optimistic the guy is. It's nice. 

"Nice to meet you! You're supposed to be asleep I thought, but that's fine. I could use some help actually!"

“Uhm... with what?” As nice as the guy seems to be, he’s living with Brock, and Mark doesn’t want to play victim to anymore spells. 

“Come here, it’s easier to show than explain.”

The seer lets himself get led to the table, candles and books piled high on it. It’s an almost cozy sight, of his nerves weren’t spiking beyond belief. Sark grabs one of the books, flipping it open to show it’s false and there’s a secret pocket. 

He shuffled around the small hole in the box before drawing something out, clutched tightly in his fist.

He motions for Mark to hold out his hand and the seer does, cupping his palms and fingers together albeit a bit nervously. Sark gently transfers whatever he's holding into the other man's hands- and Mark hisses a bit when the skin of his palms are nicked with glass.

He doesn't need to look to know what he's holding, but he does anyways. 

Hundreds and thousands on glass pieces, a bit of blood on the shards. Too familiar in his hand, too familiar in his mind. 

It's Brock's heart- shattered and broken. 

"Oh."

“His king brought it around.” Sark said, gently wiping any remaining glass off his own hands. “Tried to give it to him, but Brock just shattered it.”

Mark just stares at the pieces until Sark gently grabs his fingers, curling them over the glass. 

“My boy is lonely. He’s lonely, and scared, and angry.” Sark’s voice was solemn, but a small smile still rested on his face. “Help him, before he breaks something that can’t be fixed.”

Mark knew what he had to do- Brock had spent  _ weeks  _ upon  _ weeks  _ trying to fix him, countless cuts on his fingers and hands- blood sweat and tears poured into putting him back together. 

Mark would be damned if he didn't do the same.

"Do you have any glue?" He asked softly, looking down into his hands and seeing the candlelight reflect off of the broken shards. In any other situation he would have said it looked pretty, but knowing this was his beloved's heart made his stomach lurch. 

And with glue now in hand, Mark got to work.

He didn’t know how long he had before Brock came back- Sark has told him sometimes Brock’s gathering trips turned into days and he had left an hour before Mark had gotten there. 

So he only hoped he could fix it before he was discovered. 

He got the bottom part of the heart done in an hour- it was simple enough, finding which pieces came together to make the point, but it just made it all the more of a mystery where the rest went. 

Sark offered him encouragement throughout the night and into the morning, where Mark’s eyes felt like sand and his fingers were pricked to death as he tried shard after shard. He had already shed a few frustrated tears- they now pooled in the bottom of Brock’s heart.

Brian had offered him encouragement throughout the night and into the morning, trying desperately to soothe Ohm into some kind of sleep. Ohm's eyes felt like sand and Brian's fingers were pricked to death having removed thorn after thorn from his friend's eyes. They had both shed a few frustrated tears, and Ohm couldn't tell if his were blood or if he was actually crying.

Brian had laid him down in his bed, tucking his friend into the covers and watching as Ohm stared blankly at nothing. 

“Do you think I’ll be able to see again?” The words were hushed, pale and shaky fingers coming to rest gently on the new set of bandages. “Just- be honest. Please.”

Brian hesitated before sitting on the edge of the bed. “I don’t tink so, Ohm.” He looked to the edge of the table, where bloodstained rags greeted him. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Ohm felt blindly for a large pillow, bringing it closer to cuddle. “It’s my fault for falling.”

"It's not yer fault-" Brian started, placing a comforting hand on Ohm's shoulder. "I- fohk, ye should have gone first. I'm so sorry." 

"It... It's alright, Brian." Ohm smiled in the direction of his friend, fingers trailing along the edge of the blindfold. "Besides, I think this could be a good thing. I don't know- I used to never see, I used to be so wary of things in the woods. Maybe I should be more cautious now..." The king trailed off, letting his hand fall limp against the bed. "Hey Brian?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you get Toonzy for me?"

“Yeah.” Brian pats Ohm’s hand, and tells him not to mess with the blindfold before he starts to head to the parlor, thoughts heavy on his mind. 

He opens the door, sighing at the sight of their friends clustered together, sleeping so soundly. He only has eyes on Luke, knowing it’s going to be a challenged lifting the heavy were. Especially with poppies reaching for his feet. 

But he still scooped the king up in his arms, glancing around the room again. Something felt... wrong. Like something was missing from the picture and he wasn’t quite sure what.

But there were too many people in the house to focus on anything, and Brian made a note to himself to come back if Ohm ever slept- but dawn was fast approaching, and he doubted either of them would sleep. But nonetheless he brought Luke upstairs, not so gently putting the man down onto the bed with a harried apology.

"Sorry yer husband's so fohkin heavy."

That at least got a giggle out of Ohm, quickly wrapping himself around his husband and tucking them both under the sheets. “Aren’t you supposed to be strong, Prince Charming?”

“I help me people carry sacks of grain to the villages, I’m not used t’carrying werewolves.”

The king sighed, pushing himself closer to Luke. “I was kinda hoping me being in danger would wake him up. Y’know. Mating mark and all.”

“Is that why ye fell?”

“No! God, no. That was an accident. It only hit me when we got back.”

"Well..." He gestured kind of sadly to the were, a frown on his face. "I guess not. Shite." Brian sat down- this time on the armchair near the bed, playing with a roll of clean bandages in his hand. "I just hope I can fix this."

“I just hope I can fix this.” Mark muttered, sucking the blood off of his finger. It had started to smear, and it hindered his progress. Sark watched from the couch with a smile. 

“I have faith in you, Mirror.”

“At least someone does.” The seer reaches up to massage his aching head, freezing when a vision passed across his mind.

Well, it seemed Brock would be home sooner than he thought- it had only been a few days since Mark had started trying to fix his lover's heart, and he wasn't too surprised to have the vision pop up. 

"I think Brock's on his way." Mark muttered, "He's not going to be happy with me either."

"You just need to be honest with him." Sark's tone was casual- far too casual for the situation they were in. "I promise. Just keep working." 

And what else was Mark to do? He kept working, glueing piece after piece and ignoring the sting in his fingertips.

He shuddered his way through the vision again, using it as a reassurance to just work. Head down. Eyes down. Work. Glue. Wipe the blood and tears and sweat away and fix this goddamn problem. 

He jumped when he heard the footsteps outside, trying desperately to ignore them and focus on gluing glass. Sark murmured something under his breath as the door creaked open.


	17. Mirror Mirror, Build me a Bridge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Issa long chapter today

"Sark? Are you here, birdie? I picked you up a treat-" Brock cut himself off when he spotted fluffy brown hair at his table, heard the sniffles and recognized who they belonged to. Anger flared up before it dipped down into... sadness. Sorrow- at the implication that Ohm had...

"Mark? Get out of my house."

Mark raised his head, a myriad of emotions swirling through pretty amber and honey. 

All pain. Hurt. Sadness. Anger. Wrath. 

Brock recognized every one of those emotions.

Even the painful little flicker of hope. 

“I’d rather not, if you don’t mind.”

“Well, I do mind.” He set his basket down heavily on the chair next to the door, glaring at Sark. “Why did you let him in?”

"The door was open?" The raven shrugged with a sheepish expression, curling up on the couch and trying to pretend he wasn't paying attention to their conversation. Brock's firey gaze was turned back towards Mark, but hazel eyes went soft when he saw just what the man was working on.

"Where did you- stop!" He stalked forward but Mark put up a pink shield, focus entirely on the glass heart that was still being rebuilt right in front of his eyes. " _ Stop _ ." 

"Why?"

Brock didn’t have an answer, hand pressed flat against the pink magic. “Mark,  _ stop _ .”

Mark kept fixing it. “Not until you give me a reason. Give me one good reason, Brock, and I’ll stop.”

The witch snarled, hand turned fist and smashing the shield. “Is me asking not enough?”

“No.”

“Then what do you want?!”

Mark just pursed his lips, hunching over Brock’s heart and carefully sealing another piece in place. Another. Another. A layer of glass finished, fingers pricked and bleeding profusely. 

“Mark-“

“Unless you’re giving me an answer, shush.”

Brock hissed at him, moving around the shield to try and find a weak point. 

In one case, it was the perfect metaphor. The monster trying to destroy all light. 

In the other, Mark was done with calling  _ people  _ monsters. 

“Why do you want me to stop, Brock?”

“Mark-“

“You’re supposed to be heartless.”

“ _ -Stop- _ “

“Or are you just pretending?” Brown eyes flicked up, the only reaction Mark would give him. “That’s okay too, if you are-“

“I’m  _ scared _ .”

That got him to stop for a moment, the pink shield thankfully unwavering even as Brock weakly pounded at it. 

"I can't let my heart get broken again. I broke it to keep myself safe- and- and if you fix it it's just going to get broken again." The witch was on the verge of tears, firey magic like a second skin around his body. "I can't put myself back together again-"

"Then let me do it for you. Let  _ us  _ take care of  _ you- _ "

"You're lying." A weak sob broke his lips, followed quickly by a snarl as a hurricane of negative emotions washed over him. "You're lying."

"Mirror mirror?"

“You’re just going to lie.”

“You know I can’t.”

Golden eyes gleamed at him, filled to the brim with furious tears. “Mirror Mirror on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all?”

He knew the answer before it even slipped from his lips. He had  _ known  _ what the answer would be. 

“You. Always you.”

"I can't be- not like this."

"That's not a question, Brock."

The witch snarled and wiped at his face with a batwinged sleeve, fingers twitching with magic and emotion. 

"Mirror Mirror, will you give up on me?"

"Never again." 

"Mirror Mirror, do you still love me?"

"Always and forever."

"Mirror Mirror..." His voice cracked, the hollowness in his chest overwhelming; an empty chasm that he just wanted  _ filled _ . "Mirror Mirror, I hurt people. I hurt you."

"I know, but it's okay."

“Mirror Mirror...” he collapsed to his knees, leaning his head against the pink shield. His horns jutted above him, manicured hands pressed against the pink magic. “Mark, can I come back?”

He felt the shield dissolve under his fingers, then warm hands (maybe a bit bloodied) take his own. 

“You always could have.” A soft kiss to the forehead. 

“Mark.” Brock sobbed. “Mark, I don’t want to be empty.”

"I know," The reassurance hit like a tidal wave, his hands squeezed and a honeyed voice telling him over and over that it was okay. 

"Mirror Mirror?"

"Yes?"

"I can't let you give me my heart back."

“Why not?” Mark squeezes his hands tighter. 

Brock leans into the touch, the love and acceptance so strange yet familiar. 

“Mirror Mirror, I want to help people.” He buries his face into Mark’s chest, mindful of the horns. “I don’t know why, but I want to help. I can’t do that when I don’t have control.”

“You want to help?” Mark asks him quietly, pressing a kiss to his head. He gets a shaky nod. “That sounds like you’re growing a heart in there, Brock.”

A head shake- his chest still feels so empty, like someone's taken out everything inside him and scooped it out, filled with ice and magic instead. He glances at the table and sees that the heart is nearly done, filled with blood and tears that makes it look pink and  _ real _ . 

"I think you're fixing mine." 

"Will you let me finish here?" It's posed like a question but Brock knows it's not. He couldn't say no even if he wanted to, and shakily sits down on the floor next to Mark's chair, still trembling. 

He tries not to let his raw emotions consume him.

He flinches every time a new piece is attached to his heart, Mark sometimes stopping to run his hands through Brock’s black hair. 

“You’re doing great, Brock.” His mirror whispers. “I’m almost done.”

“I... I can’t bring Ohm back.” He says quietly. “That’s why you’re awake, right?”

"What?" Mark looks as confused as he sounds, looking away briefly from the 3-d puzzle he's almost complete with, his hands a bit shaky through the pain and strain of it all. "I woke up from my vision, I didn't even see Ohm in the castle when I was up. Why would you...?"

"The curse." Brock's crying again, unable to be comforted by the fingers in his hair or the kiss placed on his forehead- no happiness shining through him. "If I don't break the spell, the only way they can wake up is if Ohm..." 

"Dies?"

He can't speak so he nods, taking deep breaths to try to get himself under control; to use the pain for his source of magic, dark and impure. 

"Everyone was asleep the last I checked."

"I locked Brian in a tower, too."

Mark sighs deeply, and Brock curls in on himself like a scolded child, dark magic festering in him. 

“Well, I’ll help you fix it.” Soothing words, soothing voice. “I’ll help you fix it, okay?”

He sobs out a noise of acknowledgement, wrapping his arms around himself. His pale gray skin is shadowy in the room, a stain on the world. 

“I don’t think Ohm is dead.” Mark keeps peppering kisses to his face. Even if it doesn’t help, it’s natural for him. “And I’ll help you get Brian out of that tower. Let me put your heart back together, okay?”

And Brock let's his; let's him help, let's the man spend more hours on the glass pieces just like Brock had done for him. He's there; and maybe that's just want Brock wanted all along. Not to be alone, his biggest fear lived out in this nightmare. 

Ohm let's Brian help him too- let's the king cook for him, make sure he doesn't run into any sleeping patrons as they bumble their way around the castle. His eyes are slow to heal but the bandages are kept on anyways- a blessing or a curse, Ohm isn't sure.

“Little to the right.” Brian instructed, and Ohm stumbles in that direction. “Straight.”

“Okay.” Ohm breathed. “Okay, I think I know the hallway now.”

“Ye want to try walking back on yer own? It could be good practice.”

Ohm sucks in a breath, slowly raising his hands off Brian. He’s instantly wobbly, but not enough to make him fall, and he feels just a seed of spite towards the world down in his chest. “Yeah. I could try that.”

"I'm just gonna go around the corner, okay? Yell if ye need me." Brian seems just as reluctant to let him go but he does- gently letting his hands fall from Ohm's arm and slowly backing away. "Do not be afraid to fohkin call fer me okay? Ye promise?"

"I promise, asshole. Shoo, I got this."

_ “Shoo, I got this.” _ Brian does a terrible impression of Ohm, but it still sets them both off into laughter. “That’s what ye said when I tried to let ye take a bath alone.”

“Shut up.” Ohm grumbles. “I wanted you to see my dick even less than you did. Shoo.”

The king chuckles as he walks away, and Ohm listens to his footsteps slowly fade. 

The swan king sighs, and moves his foot forward. So far, so good. 

He takes another step, then another, holding his arms out to the side. Brian tried to get him to use a cane, but Ohm adamantly refused, the smell of bronze strong in his nose. 

So he leads with his feet, shuffling down the hallway.

It takes him a bit- he knows the labrynth of halls pretty well, but it's still hard to navigate since it had been years since his blindfold days.

"Slow and steady wins the race?"

"Yer doing great, Ohm." He hears from a hallway or two down, and the king heads off in that direction, laughing a bit when he stumbles but catches himself before he hits the rug.

He steadies himself upwards, taking an exaggerated step over the carpet before setting off again, starting to pick up in his pace a little. He’s now walking instead of staggering, and the change feels like an improvement to him. 

“The next hallway is a left?” He calls, and he gets a ‘Yep!’ In return. 

He takes the left at a brisk walk, grin wide on his face.

It's nice; feels like he's in the woods again, especially with the warm sunlight that pours in through the large windows he knows are there. 

All he needs is his eye dog and things'll be back to normal- but Toonz is asleep, so he'll have to settle for the silver king instead.

"Marco!" Brian calls a few feet away, the sound of feet pounding on the floor is loud enough for Ohm to track.

"Polo!" His smile is bright and Ohm rounds the corner in nearly a sprint. They chase each other around, forgetting the problems and worries of their snoozing kingdom for a brief moment.

They’ve stayed out of the parlor, not wanting to see so many people asleep, and instead have spent their days exploring the castle. They’ve discovered part of a tower they’ve never seen before (and technically, Ohm never will), and run through the servant’s passage that leads them up. 

Ohm can hear Brian fiddling with a door before throwing it open, the sound of the wind blasting into the corridor. 

“Are we at the top of the castle?” Ohm says slightly louder than usual. 

“I tink so.”

Brian carefully leads him up the last few steps- and the cold air bites at his face but it's soothed by the warm rays of the winter sun, and the king smiles and takes a deep lungful of pine-scented air. 

"It's not even a good view." Brian says with a snort, gently elbowing Ohm in the ribs. Ohm knew he was lying but he still smiled, knowing just how hard Brian was trying to cheer him up.

“Describe the view to me, Brian.”

His friend hums absentmindedly, placing a hand on Ohm’s back. 

“Ye can see almost the entire kingdom from up here. Maybe even a little bit into Evan’s kingdom.”

The bronze king makes a noise of acknowledgement. 

“There’s snow everywhere, maybe even covering the poppies. Ye can’t really see the red once the forest starts, and it gets that fuzzy blue color a bit out.”

“What else?”

He can hear Brian shift to sit on the stone, the warm hand absent from his back. “It’s noon, so the sun’s getting closer t’the horizon. Days are getting longer though. Uh, clouds are pink. There’s...” He trails off. 

Ohm stumbles over. “There’s what?”

“There’s a fohkin’ dragon.”

"There's what."

"There's a fohkin' dragon." Brian repeats, voice a little strained as he speaks- and Ohm doesn't blame him, not when he hears the resounding  _ roar  _ that echoes a moment later. "Oh my god it's burning the fohking forest." 

_ "WHAT?!" _

"Well- wait- I- you did invite all the fae, right? Right?"

"I thought I did!" Ohm's face is bright red, hands wringing his shirt nervously. "But obviously not because of Brock. Fucking dammit-"

“Do ye think Brock’s t’blame for it?” Brian sounds horrified. “He already cursed the kingdom, why send a dragon?”

“I don’t know!” Ohm flails. “What’s it doing now?”

“Still burning the forest.” Brian grips his hand tightly. “The poppies are burning.”

And indeed, Ohm can smell smoke on the horizon. The faint tickle of charred plants has already reached their balcony, swept to them by a breeze of thundering wings. 

Wings that sound closer. 

“Brian?” He asks. “Should we get inside?”

"I uh. Probably." He rushes Ohm inside- the two immediately heading for the parlor where their friends are (mostly, Luke is still up in their room but Ohm hopes he's going to be safe there). 

"Fohkin hell I lost me sword. Uh." Brian sits Ohm down on the couch and feverishly looks for his weapon until a sudden eurika moment hits and he's looking towards his sleeping knight to possibly snag his.

"Ohm it seems I've lost Mark too."

His friend stays quiet for a minute before he’s smacking Brian- not hard enough to hurt, just hard enough to let him know what he thinks.

“How the fuck do you lose your sword? And your sleeping boyfriend?”

“I don’t know!” Brian hisses, and grab’s Jack’s sword. “But he’s not here!”

The bronze king pulls at his hair in agitation, rubbing his eyes through the bandages. “Okay, we’ll worry about Mark later. There’s still a dragon outside- can you see it?”

A quick peer through the stained glass makes an affirmative, Brian hissing through his teeth when he sees the dragon getting very close to the castle, ducking behind the curtain with a rapid heartbeat.

"Yeah I tink I see the dragon."

"You think?!" 

"Well- fohk- Yeah I see it. Don't yell at me!"

The sound of whooshing fire is very close; close enough that it has Ohm jumping to his feet in panic.

"He sounds  _ close Brian how the fuck did you not see him." _

"Did ye just assume the dragon's gender?!"

"YOU'RE AVOIDING THE QUESTION."

"I KNOW."

The sound of crackling fire above them makes them pause their squabbling, blue and bandages looking up. 

“Brian?”

“Yeah?”

“Is... is he burning the poppies on the castle?”

Brian quickly pokes his head in front of the curtain again, eyes widening at the smoke that covers the glass. “I tink he is.”

A shadow crosses over them, and Brian steps back again at the roar the thing lets out. It’s not a roar of triumph. It’s a roar of pain.

"Ohm?"

"Yeah?"

"I tink we are royally fohked." Brian bites his lip and moves closer to Ohm, grabbing the man's upper arm and tugging him to his feet- instead pushing them both to duck behind the couch. "I don't have a plan."

"Me either."

Another roar- one that has Brian shaking in his boots. There's a long moment of silence before they hear it- the gentle, barely audible sound of the front door being creaked open and both kings freeze as they look down to see (Ohm feels) the poppies that still cover the stone floors.

“Can dragons open doors?” Ohm asks, and he gets smacked in the back of the head for asking. 

“Ye fohkin idiot, ye know they can have human forms!”

“I’m distracted!” Ohm cries. “I’m blind and terrified for my life!”

The sounds of footsteps on stone shut them both up, the voices muffled and unrecognizable as they pass below them. Ohm squeezes his shaking hand into a fist, setting it on the floor. “Okay. Plan. We stay here and hide until they come in here, then we ambush them?”

Brian nods, realizes Ohm can't see him, then gives a quiet affirmation to the plan before they both fall silent. They hear more fire being blown through the castle, a soft voice far more encouraging than it needs to be.

Then the door opens.

“There’s a few poppies in here, can your head fit?” It’s a voice they both know and love in different ways, and it’s more than enough to abandon the plan, Brian sticking his head up from behind the couch with delight and disbelief. 

“Marky?”

“Brian?” The seer launches himself across the room as Brian vaults the couch, colliding against each other in an embrace.

Ohm's head turns toward the sound of the two, a small smile gracing his lips when he hears the two- put then he hears  _ it _ , claws fidgeting on rock, a looming but tired presence in the hallway. 

Ohm stands up, ignoring Brian as he stumbles towards it.

“Hello?” He calls, bracing his hands on the doorway. His heart screams for a werewolf, but realistically he knows it’s not. “Who’s there?”

A puff of hot air blows over him, more claws scrabbling around. “Um.”

There’s something oddly familiar about the brimstone-filled voice that fills the hall.

"Jesus Christ- is that- Brock?"

The sudden mention of his name has Mark and Brian's attention back over to them, and though Ohm can't see, Brock slinks further into the shadows. His black form would have blended in well had it not been for the gold accents that litter his scales and body, making him glow like a rainbow fish in a dark river. 

"Don't freak out!" Mark calls, disentangling himself from Brian with a hurried tone.

“I’m freaking out a bit.” Ohm calls back, blindly feeling his way back into the room and pressing himself against the first body he comes into contact with- it turns out to be Brian, his fellow king moving him behind him. 

The witch awkwardly tucks his wings against his body, sending a pleading look towards Mark. 

“We’re at an arrangement.” Mark explains to the two of them, hurrying into the hall to stand next to the dragon.

"An-an  _ arrangement- _ "

"Give me one goddamn second to explain myself." Mark's sudden sharp tone surprises all 3 of them, but ultimately it does get Brian and Ohm's attention long enough for Mark to take back center stage. "Okay, good. We are reversing the curse in a safe, non murdery way. You have to trust me on this-"

"Why should we?" The accusatory tone makes Brock shrink further into the shadows, but Mark stands his ground. 

"We give everyone a second chance. Jack wouldn't be here without a second chance, Luke either. And you try being nice when you can't feel any love or happiness."

Ohm squeezes Brian’s hand tightly, looking in the general direction of Brock. He pokes his head out, ignoring Brian’s quiet “Ohm.”, shuffling back out to the doorway. 

If he listens closely he can hear the heavy breathing of Brock, something like panic stuck in his lungs. It makes his heart melt a little. 

But only a little. 

“Ohm?” Mark asks. “Are you okay?”

"I'm good- I just-" The king laughs, bringing a hand up to fix his hair, more of a nervous tick than anything. "I'd say I needed to see it with my own eyes but that's only half true."

There’s a pause before Mark makes a noise of concern, and Ohm hears the shuffling of feet across stone before warm hands cup his cheeks. “Are you blind?”

“Yeah?” He squeaks out. “Sorta fell into some thorns.”

He hears claws shifting towards him and can’t help the flinch that unconsciously goes through him, an apology already spilling out of his lips. 

“Sorry, Brock-“

“I’m going to finish cleaning up downstairs.” The dragon mutters, already turning around in the semi-cramped hallway. 

“Yer not going anywhere,  _ Barrus _ .”

Brock freezes at the sound of Brian's voice and at the nickname, knowing how formal and... cruel he had been; lashong out from the pain. Brock's chest hurt, wondering if Mark really had lied to him.

There was no way either Brian or Ohm could ever forgive and love him again. 

He still stopped though- too scared to turn around in case he was right.

"Please fer the love of gods stop cleanin' fer one second."

That earns a laugh from Mark, the sound bright in the dim mood. The seer keeps up the chuckle as he moves away from Ohm and to his prince, tugging gently on Brock’s scaly leg. 

“I told you.”

“Shut up.” Brock says too softly for a man who is heartless. He turns back around, blinking at Brian, and is ‘human’ again in a heartbeat- he still has pale gray skin, bright yellow eyes, and those horns still cut a fierce line above his head, but the expression on his face is entirely human.

He looks exhausted and vulnerable, and Mark does look a bit worried but let's the man stand on his own for a bit before worry takes over.

"I don't think sorry'll cut it." Brock starts, a hand clenching in front of his chest. "And I don't think it'll be sincere, since I can't love you right now. I can't tell you how sorry I am."

Brian stares at him with icy blue eyes, similar to what Brock feels in his chest. 

“And I’m trying my best to fix it.” Brock continues. “But I haven’t done anything yet, and I can’t ask for forgiveness yet. Maybe not forgiveness.” Those golden eyes flicker towards the king, and Brian can  _ swear  _ he sees a hint of hazel before it’s gone. “Understanding.”

Mark is standing behind Brock, a death glare aimed at his kingly boyfriend.

"Well." Brian huffs a bit, trying not to be intimidated by Mark but it's hard when those amber eyes are hard and unrelenting- and he nods, shakily but he nods- knowing full well he's not entirely free of blame here since he did... forget about Brock. "It's not me ye need to get approval from, it's Ohm."

Brock turns to Ohm with steely determination- but he doesn’t need it, not when he’s barreled into by the king, letting go of him as soon as he touches him. 

“I’m sorry- are hugs okay?”

“Sure?” Brock says, shock settling deep into his gut. “I don’t care.”

It’s not exactly encouragement, but Ohm takes it as such, burying himself into the hug with Brock.

It sucks, because no matter how hard he tries Brock can't... feel the affection- can't feel much of anything but regret. But he tentatively wraps an arm around the king, and it's the right move if the big smile from Mark is anything to go by. 

"Er. I gotta fix this, Ohm. But we can hug after."

His old friend pulls away, bandana wet with tears, nodding shakily. “Since you promised a hug after, I’m going to guess your fix it plan doesn’t involve killing me.”

“No.” The witch keeps his answer short. “But it does involve you. Where did you put Luke?”

"Upstairs- on my bed." Ohm answers, his trust still there even if it's on wobbly legs. "Why?"

"I used him as an anchor for the spell, meaning I need to take it off of him; after I burn these stupid poppies anyways." Brock casually brushes his cloak off, and Brian realizes how... not like his boyfriend this really is; like someone took out the essence of what made Brock  _ Brock  _ and left with a copy of the original.

“Do... do you want help burning them?” Ohm asks cautiously. Brock snorts, thumbing at the bottom of his horn. 

“Dragon fire is the only way to get rid of them. I made the spell to be unbreakable, Ohm.” He pulls at the tight neckline for the robe, and shifts back into the black and gold dragon, shaking his head like a dog.

They let him wander off- to purge the kingdom of menacing red flowers that have sprout up like the plague, and they all feel something after the dragon leaves- different emotions coursing through all three of their hearts. And they wait- Mark trusting Brock to finish this task, since the heart was safe at home under Sark's care; drying and complete.

Ohm settles himself in between his friends, feeling better with people on either side of him. Mark and Brian lead him to his bedroom, and he wobbles the rest of the way to his bed, sitting down next to Luke. 

“You’re going to wake up soon.” Ohm whispered. “But I still miss you. In advance.”

He laid a small kiss onto Toonzy's god awful bedhead, trying his best to untangle the knots with his fingers- but he was sure he just made it even worse, still not leaving it alone though. His fingers mapped out the edges of his ears, and feeling them twitch under his hand was a calming and familiar action that soothed him ever so slightly. Mark and Brian excuse themselves and briefly Ohm can hear them arguing in the hall; bitter words and defense on both sides. 

He pretends he can't hear them, and is a bit surprised when Moo ends up slipping by the two. A secret passage maybe?

"Hey, Ohm."

He looks in the general direction of his old friend’s voice, the bitterness and regret of it making him easy to see even in blindness.

“Hey, Brock.”

He can hear the shuffling of feet and sighs, swinging his legs off the bed and patting the cover next to him. “Have a seat?”

The bed dips down, a warm presence at his side.

He reaches a blind hand towards the witch, gently trailing fingers from Brock's face and up towards his horns- gently tracing the dark appendages with the most delicate of touches. 

It make's Brock's nonexistent heart break tenfold.

"You can't see."

"I had an accident." 

"I might be able to fix this." He says, voice a mix of musing and sadness all rolled up into one ball of unrecognizable emotion. "I- Ohm, gosh... Please make sure I apologize if I get my heart back."

"If?"

The witch turns his head down, gold flickering green for a brief moment before they flash back to their unusual color. 

"I still don't know if they'll take me back- if  _ you'll  _ take me back."

He hears Ohm suck in a breath, daring to dart a look at the blind man. 

There’s a few emotions Brock can recognize with his limited range of emotions. 

Guilt is a prominent one. 

“Do you think we won’t?” Ohm’s hands grip his horns tightly, a lifeline. “Brock, of course we’ll take you back. I’ll stab anyone who doesn’t.”

"I'm scared." The witch has his head in his hands, hoping to hide tears that Ohm can't even see; just feeling so  _ empty  _ and broken.

Maybe this was his punishment all along; atoning for his sins in the most emotionally frustrating way. And maybe, just maybe, it was the start of making up for everything he had done. 

He let Ohm drag him in for another hug, arms tight around his waist as sobs wrack his form, his tears black with golden glitter that drip down his face in a hauntingly beautiful way. He manages to pull away from the king- wanting to break the curse as fast as possible. Brock takes a deep breath and turns to the sleeping were with an apology already on his lips.

“Sorry to use you against your husband.” He whispers, tracing manicured nails over the were’s face, a golden trail left behind. “It’s really no better than what Craig did.” He mutters a few words under his breath, golden eyes sparking (quite literally, the sclera overtaken by flame). 

There’s a tense pause, Brock’s hand digging into Luke’s face as his magic crackles and sparks. 

Luke’s eyes shoot open and he takes a heaving breath.


	18. Mirror Mirror, My Heart Has Wings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y’all ready to cry like babies? that’s what we did when we wrote this chapter

After seeing the sudden panic and anger in Luke's eyes Brock takes a step back, not wanting to be in the were's warpath or inbetween him and Ohm. And thankfully that's what Luke's attention is turned to- the man with the bandana tied tighty around his eyes, a soft smile and baited breath of "Toonzy?" falling from his lips like they were the only words he'd ever need to speak.

The king is tackled in a hug, obviously- strong arms nearly pinning him to the bed in his haste to get Ohm  _ safe _ .

Brock flinches at the growl sent his way, Luke keeping Ohm close to the bed as he twists his head, a different sort of gold slitted at him. 

“Toonzy! Toonzy, stop!” Ohm pushes at his husband’s chest, growling right back at Luke when the were growls at him. “Luke, he’s fine. Stop being an animal.”

The fight drains out of Luke, eyes going half lidded in exhaustion, and he collapses onto Ohm with a whine. 

“Luke?”

“Mating mark.” The werewolf king rasps, clawing at Ohm’s shirt. “Ohm, why are you in pain?”

"I had an accident-" Ohm starts, but doesn't get any further because Luke once again rounds on Brock- the witch actually unaware of how the king got blinded in the first place.

But once again it seems that the blame falls on him.

"What did you  _ do _ ?" The only thing keeping Luke on the bed is his husband- but it's a pretty small barrier in regards to the overprotective werewolf.

Brock opens his mouth- to defend himself, or to attack, even he’s not sure which one, but a swift kick to Luke’s backside has him whimpering and falling over, Ohm’s expression livid in Brock’s defense. 

“Bad puppy.” He chides. “Be nice to Brock.”

The witch has frozen in place, still tear-stained cheeks slowly drying and leaving black marks on his face. 

“He cast a fucking spell- how long have I been asleep for?!”

“Barely two weeks, stop whining and apologize to Brock for accusing him of something I did on my own.”

"I-  _ what _ ?! No way, I ain't apologizing-"

"Toonzy." Ohm sounded stern- kingly levels of stern, hands on his hips kind of stern. "This was an accident, I wouldn't lie about that to save Brock face. He did cast a spell but we'll get into that later." 

Luke didn't need to peer under the blindfold to know what kind of expression his husband was giving him.

The sheepish expression on the wolf’s face was worthy of a painting, ears flattened against his head and tail between his legs. 

“M’sorry, Brock.” He muttered, twisting his fingers between each other. 

The witch sighed. “It’s fine. The rest of your guests are waking up.”

"Where does that leave you?" Ohm asked, standing from the bed with surprising grace- the kingliness slowly coming back to him. "Brock-"

"We're going back to the cottage." Came Mark's soft call from the doorway, his hip resting against the wooden door. "I've got a spell that I think can give Brock his heart back-"

"B-but he smashed it." All eyes turned to Brian, his expression a melancholy mix of bittersweet.

“I put it back together.” Mark said shortly, a half grin traveling up the side of his face. “My turn to save the princess.”

There was no blush that crossed Brock’s grey face, but he still ducked his head in embarrassment. 

“How’d ye even find the pieces?” Brian moved into the room, brining Mark with him. 

“Let’s just say a little bird told me.” Honey eyes winked at Brock, crossing the room to link hands with him. “You ready to go? Any last minute spells you want to cast before you lose the ability?”

"I-It's not that I'll lose my ability to cast such spells..." He trailed off, wringin his hands in the long sleeves of his robe. "I'll just lose my control." He turns his attention back to Ohm once more, sorrow in yellow eyes. One of Brock's nails drags along the edge of the blindfold. "I could try to... if you'd like."

Ohm’s hand reached up to grab Brock’s, fingers curling around his wrist. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to try.”

The king nods his head slowly, settling back on the bed. “Then be my guest.”

Luke looks so desperately confused, ears pressed flat against his head as a whine escapes his lips. “Wait- What are you trying to fix? What the fuck is going on?”

"His eyes..." Brock mutters, his voice less cold and more calculating; pensive as he lets golden light pour from his fingers and towards the king's blindfold, gently tearing it off in the process.

Ohm lets loose a small gasp of pain, trying desperately to conceal it; but it's too late, Brock already pulling away and Luke throwing himself at Ohm.

"I'm fine." He quietly reassures. "It just surprised me."

"Then keep going?" Brock asks. "I think it's going to work."

Ohm nods, determination set into pale white eyes that only get to see the world for the first time- or rather, the world gets to see them. Green has vanished entirely, and Brock has a inkling magic has played a part on Ohm's 'accident'.

"Keep going, Brock."

He bites his lip more in thought than disgust, both hands cupping Ohm's face- letting his magic drain into his friend's eyes with fingers trembling with power. 

And they wait, watching the grey hue of Brock's face pale to a much softer dove color, golden eyes glowing brighter and brighter the more his face drained.

There's quiet muttering from Mark and Brian, Luke staying silent and terse as Brock's face keeps paling, until it's nearly the color of a snowy sky.

The more he seems to drain, the more color starts to come into Ohm's eyes, a light lima bean making the iris of his eyes visible again.

"It's working." He whispers quietly. "Brock, I can see you- keep going."

Brock's anything if not determined, even when he screws his eyes shut the amber glow still shines through. The witch starts to feel woozy but pushes through- even if it's not for love he's going to fix this, dammit. 

He passes out before he can see if he's fixed Ohm's ability to.

Ohm cries out the second Brock falls to the floor, clutching at his face as the last of the golden magic slips between his fingers, curling up and unbalancing himself so he falls to the floor- Luke grabbing at him.

Mark and Brian swoop over Brock, hands moving over the witch's face to see if he's alive. The grey is still absent from his features, a pale sheet instead.

Despite his hesitation about Brock before, Brian still looks concerned.

They let Luke take care of Ohm and Mark takes hold of Brock- the witch, seer and prince making a swift exit with calls that they'll be back.

"Sugar, darlin'- are you okay? Baby?" 

"I- ow, gimme a second, Toonzy." The use of the nickname makes Luke relax ever so slightly, but he still holds Ohm in his arms with a death grip, claws unconsciously popped as he squeezes tighter.

He watches Ohm slowly peel his hands from his face, bright green slowly being revealed, the color making relief rush through his system.

"Hi." He whispers, trying to rein in his wolf side (but he can't  _ help  _ his tail wagging like a puppy, or his ears perking up.) "Are you okay?"

"I'm-  _ shit-  _ fuck, that hurts." Ohm blinks wildly, long eyelashes sticking together with tears.

"How bad? 1-10?"

"Eleven?" The king let's out a laugh that is more bitter than he hoped, curling up and pressing his face against Luke's shirt- the man still smelling so comforting like pine and snow.

Luke nuzzles his hair, breathing in the scent that's seemed to escape him. "Why can't I feel that?"

"Magic is stupid." Ohm sniffles, tears starting to fall freely. "I missed you."

"Where did I go?"

"You were asleep for two weeks-" Ohm's hand reaches up to Luke's hair. "-and I was right, you have  _ terrible  _ bedhead."

The were chuckles, gripping Ohm and lifting him onto the bed, laying on top of him. "Leave my bedhead alone, I'm from the forest. And two weeks? That's a long fucking time for a power snooze."

"Powerful magic." Ohm's hand reaches up towards his eyes, shakily tracing the scar that frames chestnut brown with an equally shaky smile on his lips. "I think it's my turn to take a nap, if that's okay."

"I'll make sure nothing happens to you, shug." The cooed words and molasses drawl easily have Ohm closing his eyes, a few stray teardrops still sticking to the lashes even closed. 

Luke kisses them away- making sure that he's giving the gentlest of touches, not wanting Ohm's pain to be cranked up any more than it already is.

"Toonzy?"

"Yeah, Ohm?"

"I love you." Ohm reaches his hands upwards blindly, perfectly fitting on Luke's face, fingers tangling in his scruff. "A lot- and if I ever become heartless, smack the  _ shit  _ out of me."

Luke blinks, then snorts, pressing a kiss to Ohm's chapped lips, snaggleteeth catching on pink flesh.

"Sure. Whatever you say, darling."

Mark taps Brian's shoulder with his own, frantic eyes at the sounds of people and fae waking up in the hall.

"Get Jack- can you handle calming everyone down?"

"I can do my best," Brian feels his heart sting a bit at the prospect of having to leave Brock again, the witch half consious and entirely supported by Mark's strong arms. "Will ye be okay?"

Mark nods, voice a little on edge when he speaks. "I think so- I think he just over exterted himself- y'know- transforming into a dragon and breaking a curse and healing blindness."

"Don't give him too much credit- half of that was his fohkin fault in the first place."

"Stop." Mark keeps his tone clipped and short. "Brian,  _ stop _ . He's been through enough anguish over the past few months, he doesn't need you bitching at him."

"He fohkin deserves it." The words are harsh, and stop Mark in his tracks, a fury of golden blaze swirling behind his own amber eyes.

"How dare you." He breathes out. "We  _ abandoned  _ him. We never once went looking for him, and he suffered months of loneliness as so- what? You can say he deserves it?"

Brian tries to place his hand on Mark's shoulder, but his boyfriend rips himself away. "I didn't mean it like that, Mark."

The seer lets out an incredulous laugh, twisting it to something much uglier. "Then what do you mean?"

"Just because he's missing his heart doesn't mean he can get away wit' everyting." The king explains, desperation shining so brightly on his face. "I know some of it's our fault. But he needs to own up t'his side of the mistakes too."

"He's tried to fix everything," Mark holds Brock closer to him, mindful of the horns that still protrude from his forehead like stalagmites. "Isn't that enough for you?"

When Brian didn't answer Mark turned away, deadset on getting Brock back to the cottage and finally reuniting him with his heart once more. He's stopped halfway down the hall by the man in his arms, a gentle hand brushing against the scruff on his chin.

"Mirror Mirror?"

"Yes, Moo Moo?"

Quiet voice, nearly a whisper of willow leaves in the wind. 

"Does Brian love me anymore?"

Mark turns back to where the king is standing, blue eyes raging and torn like crashing waves on rocky beaches. He's forced to answer.

"I don't know, Brock."

There's the feeling of wet and hot tears against his chest, and Mark grits his teeth, taking the servant's passage to avoid the general crowd with Brock.

They get outside, no issue, black and gold still streaming from Brock's eyes, and Mark worriedly strokes his back. "Hey, hey. I still love you."

"But Brian doesn't. And I don't even know about Jack." Brock shifts his head, the tip of his horns resting against Mark's chin. "Mirror, I'm supposed to be  _ heartless _ , why does it hurt so much?"

His seer sets off on a brisk walk down the path, each step kicking up ash. "You can know heartbreak without knowing love."

Brock mumbles something but the noise is caught by the wind, thrown far away from Mark's ears- though he's not sure his own heart could handle anymore sad words.

If Brock thought giving Ohm his eyes back was painful, getting his heart back nearly tore his soul in half as the hurt spread along every nerve and every vein of his body. He had screamed himself hoarse a few minutes in, sweat and tears dabbes away by soft hands and a melancholy smile.

"You're doing great, it's almost over."

Pink magic was the only thing keeping Brock going- focusing on the color and how it gave him a lively flush, the magic thrumming with his own gold under his skin. Another sob wracked his body and he  _ felt  _ the rush of adoration and gratitude that came with it- bleary hazel looking up at Mark like a lifeline. 

He took in a shaky breath- nearly panicking at the influx of emotions had it not been for the bright beacon staring down at him.

_ "So this is love, mmm... So this is love ." _ Mark's croon had his heartrate spiking and calming all at once.  _ "So this is what makes life divine ." _

Brock cracked a painful smile, nearly maniacal in his pain, reaching for Mark's face with a gold and pink hand.  _ "I'm all aglow, mmmm..." _

"Nerd."

_ "And now I know." _ He continued, voice cracking as  _ emotions  _ filled him up. _ "And now I know, the key to heaven is mine." _

Mark swooped in for a kiss, so desperate and enchanting Brock had no choice but to kiss him back, arms wrapping around his neck, his leg weakly kicking up to wrap around Mark's leg, pulling him down to extend the kiss even as a million tears shed from his hazel eyes.

_ "My heart has wings." _ Mark murmured against his lips, and his swan impression had Brock laughing  _ -laughing-  _ in glee, emotions slowly surging up inside of him. "And I can fly."

Brock swooped in for the next lines, ferverishly kissing Mark back even as he tried to sing. 

_ "I'll touch every star in the sky." _ His hands danced along Mark's cheeks, thumbs brushing against the bags that settled under the man's beautiful brown eyes.

_ "So this is the miracle-" _ The seer kept his touches calm where Brock's were frantic, keeping the other man grounded in his euphroic haze.

_ "That I've been dreaming of-" _

_ "So this is love." _

_ "So this is." _

They stared at each other, hazel and honey so in love, nothing could interrupt them, nothing could tarnish the pure  _ adoration  _ that ran between them.

Brock burst into flame.

Mark's eyebrows were singed before Brock could rein it in, desperate apologies escaping his lips as he sucked the magic back into him, his skin hot to the touch. It didn't stop Mark, even as he patted at the burnt ends of his hair.

"MarkMarkMarkI'msosorryIdidn'tthinkitwouldhappensofast-"

"Brock, breathe." The seer instructed. His boyfriend instantly sucked in a greedy breath, Mark's fingers refusing to let Brock pull away. "You're fine, it's natural."

Brock wanted so desperately to berate himself, to curl up and run away from his problems, scrub the cottage until the floors  _ shined _ ...

He laughed instead- because the sight of Mark sans eyebrows was just too good of a thing to pass up; the ends of his curls burnt in such an adorable way.

They laughed and kissed- only to have Brock once again flare up at the sudden "YES!" that rang from the loft (though Mark was able to duck out of the way this time).

Sark leaned over the small balcony edge, blue eyes lit up in delight and hopping over the edge- falling the short distance and landing it perfectly.

"I have been waiting for MONTHS for Brock to get his heart back, don't you get shy on me now!" The raven eagerly hopped from foot to foot, not minding the burning Brock on the sofa.

"Sark!" Brock squeaked in embarrassment, and his hand twitched to send a gout of flame at the man, quickly turning him into an agitated and angry bird. He took a deep breath, extinguishing himself again and turning to Mark with a beet red face. "I promised you an apology."

"I know." An easy smile on pink lips, Mark leaning forward to cup flushed cheeks in his hands. "Mirror Mirror-"

"Mark it doesn't work in reverse-"

"Can you just humor me?" The tone was enough to get Brock to shut up, pushing down embarrased magic as Mark started up once more.

"Ahem- Mirror Mirror?"

"Yes, Mark?"

"Are you sorry?" He wasn't being sarcastic, not a trace of ill will or bitterness; a genuine question.

"Yes, I am. Mark, I'm sorry-"

"Then that's enough for me."

The prince let out a dry sob, shaking him in Mark's grip. "How can you just forgive me so easily?"

"I know what it's like not to feel." Mark murmurs. "It might be a different type of feeling, but I still couldn't touch, or hold, or anything in that fucking mirror. Total loss of senses except for sight and hearing. So yeah, I know what it's like to get a little mad about it." He brushes his thumb across Brock's lip, eyes darting up to meet his lover's. 

Brock's eyes are tearing up again, clear and salty instead of black and gold- but the horns still jut from his head, even if they've changed colors. Instead of the pitch black, it's the same gold that burns on his body, a solid color that looks almost like the real thing.

Brock's eyes flick up to look at what he is, expression crumbling and tears spilling over as a shaky and burning hand touches the horns.

But Mark's hand is at his wrist, gently pulling him away and replacing the burning hand with two kisses as recompence- one to each horn. 

Brock's tears never stop but Mark doesn't blame him, the sudden influx of emotion was probably overwhelming.

Brock takes a few minutes to calm down, but once he does he's  _ smiling _ , and it's the prettiest thing Mark's ever seen.

"So," The witch started, trying and failing to hold back his giggles. 

"So?"

"If you just got your heart back, what would be the first thing you did?"

Mark chuckles at his boyfriend’s antics. “Well, I’d probably kiss my boyfriend again-“

Brock does just that, hands tugging at the lapels of Mark’s coat. It’s brief, but sweet, and they both chuckle at the approving  _ caw  _ from Sark. 

“And then?”

“And then I’d go see my friends.” Mark presses the next kiss to Brock’s neck, trying to distract him from his coming challenge. 

“O-oh.” Brock said quietly.

Brock takes a deep breath, realizing that maybe he needs to balance himself out- a little more cold and stern to stand his ground, not the pushover he used to be.

"Maybe we could start small? Like Jack?"

The seer made a face as a vision dances across his mind, quickly morphing into a smile.

"Ask and you shall recieve."

No sooner has he said the words than the cottage door busts open, slamming into the wall behind it with enough force to sway the coatrack. 

Jack is in the doorway, breathing heavily, green cloak ruffled and askew. 

“Mark, where is-“ He starts, stopping at the sight of Brock on the couch, significantly less grey and much more smiley.

It takes the huntsman a good moment to get himself together- a cacophany of emotions spilling across his rugged features.

But his expression ends up on  _ relief _ , and not a second later Brock is being scooped up off the couch and nearly squeezed to death in green-robed arms.

"Yer  _ okay _ ," Hurried words and a haggard face, pressing kisses almost immediately to his cheeks. "Oh tank god yer okay."

“I’m okay.” Brock quietly agrees, tilting his head back so Jack won’t accidentally gore himself on his horns. “Are you okay?”

“I am now.” Jack spins him around, baby blue so bright with tears. “Fohk, Brock, I missed ye so much-“

“Did you ever give up on me?” Brock interrupts. “It’s okay if you did, I just- I need to know.”

Jack gently sets Brock back on the couch, holding his hands in between his. “Never. Was I scared when ye showed up at the party? Of course. Did I wonder where ye had gone all those months? Yes. But I never gave up on ye.”

Jack leans down to press a kiss to each knuckle, his heart wrenching at the small sob that breaks the silence, Brock's trembling hands stilled by the tight grip and soft kisses that hold them.

"Brock, I don't care whose running the place, who I work for-" His blue eyes look hard into hazel, nearly boring into his soul. "You will always be my king. I will serve you until my last breath, and if you bring me back- I'll keeping serving you, loving you. Can I get another chance, love? You've saved me once- let me save you this time."

The arms that wrap around his neck and the soft lips that press into him are enough of an answer, the taste of salt present on both their lips.

It's a moment before they draw apart, the sky and earth in their eyes connecting so easily after their time spent away from each other, and Brock lets a little chuckle escape, and  _ by jaesus _ , it's the most beautiful sound Jack has ever heard.

"Speaking of who you serve..." He starts, but Mark's hand falls on his shoulder.

"We don't have to talk about Brian right now, Brocky."

"I wasn't going to." He smiles through his tears, bittersweet on his lips. "I was going to say at least one good thing came out of this- I killed Craig. Yay!" The sarcasm that drips from his celebration sends his two lovers into fits of laughter.

"I didn't think you could sound so adorable admitting to murder." Jack muttered , and Brock scoffed even when those strong arms wrapped firmly around his torso, another set going to his waist. 

"He was a ghost, I don't know if it's really  _ murder  _ per say-"

Sark squawks loudly to make his opinion known, and once more there's laughter in the cottage- filling the hollow void of loneliness that hung over the place like a deadly fog. 

Brock thinks that maybe things'll be okay- he's not sure if he can show his face at the castle ever again, but things might be okay.


	19. Mirror Mirror, Do You Believe in Magic?

Things might be okay like this, wrapped up in Luke's strong arms. A cold nose presses into his neck, and Ohm shivers, drawing the blankets up further.

They'd left the bedroom yesterday to find their guests, instead finding Brian coordinating the fae and humans who were (understandably) panicked.

Ohm had given a short and brief apology, explained the problem, said the solution had been acquired, and that both he and Luke were very sorry for the interruption to their party. The were had squeezed his hand through it, and Ohm was so,  _ incredibly  _ lucky he had an understanding kingdom who saw him and his husband as heroes.

The guests had quickly filed out after that, leaving Smiity and John utterly confused about what had happened.

They had filled them in, Brian had stormed off to his bedroom, and now here Ohm was, wrapped up in the best hug of his life, snuggled against his one true love.

So yeah. Things might be okay.

"Darlin, you keep fidgeting and I'm going to sleep on the floor." Came the mumble from the were, his arms tightening against Ohm's waist in a vain attempt to still his husband's twitching. Ohm just flushed a bit, trying to squirm out of the tight hold so he could stop bothering Luke- but obviously that didn't work. "I can hear you thinking, doll, what's wrong?"

"Just thinking." He murmurs. "Lots on my mind."

He feels a sharp nip on his neck, squeaking as Luke chuckles. "That's why I asked, Ryan."

Ohm pouts and wiggles against his husband. "You're sassy today."

"I'm always sassy," The were argues, breath hot on his neck. "I just need to make up for two weeks of not sassing you is all."

"You're ridiculous."

"No, I'm yours." 

Even after years of marriage Luke still makes his heart flutter and soar, and Ohm has to hold him just a bit harder to express just _ how much he loved his idiot _ . Luke gave him a quick squeeze before he flipped their locality- Ohm now resting along the length of Luke's body, hands on either side of his husband's head and looking down at the handsome were's grinning face.

"Really, sugar, are you okay?"

"I think so." Ohm murmured, leaning his ear on Luke's chest, making sure there's a heartbeat. "I'm just worried about Brock."

"You gotta stop worrying about other people so much, shug." Luke cards his fingers through Ohm's hair worriedly.

"I'm a king! It's my job to worry about people!"

His husband sighs, shifting his hips so Ohm's bony ass doesn't poke into his lap. "I know. But still."

"I need you to focus on yourself, first. At least right now." Luke continues, his worry clear as day as it shines through his tone. "I think we need some more help around this damn castle- some new advisors to take the weight off your shoulders." He rubbed at said tense shoulders as he spoke, noting with a small smile how Ohm almost instantly melted in his arms. "Please? At least think about it?"

"Okay, I'll  _ think  _ about it." He paused, going a bit tense. "Can I ask Brock to come back as my-"

"No."

"Why?"

"I don't think the kingdom is happy with him at the moment."

Ohm tenses again. "That's stupid."

"I know it is, love." Luke lifts his head to press a kiss to Ohm's collarbone. "But you can't have him as your advisor anymore."

The swan king sighs, green eyes dull. "Can I at least have Mark?"

"You know he's going to be busy with Brock."

"Then who would  _ you suggest?" _ Ohm says, and there's a dangerous tone on the edge of his voice. "Since you don't like any of my suggestions."

"Anyone else." Luke's stalling so he can think and Ohm  _ knows  _ it, only slightly smug as it takes a full minute oh "hmm"ing for Luke to come up with an answer. "Anthony."

"Doesn't know anything about politics and likes to live alone in the woods."

"Nogla."

"He and Tyler have a thing I'm not getting between that."

"Tom?"

"Brian's advisor, I'm not stealing him."

"Gorilla?"

"Still mad at me- he's still mad at you too."

"Squirrel."

"Literal baby."

"Smiity and John?" Luke tries, and Ohm snorts, rolling off of Luke's body and back onto the bed.

"I'm fine with that- if they're fine with stopping their adventures."

"See? I can come up with good ideas."

"Whatever you say, dear." Ohm pats Luke's stomach, eyes going hooded as his husband switches their earlier positions to be above Ohm.

"Whatever I say, huh?" Hot breath ghosts over Ohm's neck. "Then I have a few things I'd like to say."

Brock quietly stirs the dough, hands kneading out the bread with a skill that could take years to master- he's had it, knuckles sinking deep into the floured dough before pulling out and folding it over itself.

Mark and Jack are upstairs, sleeping quietly. Where he should be, too.

It seems he's one nervous habit with another, no longer feeling the overwhelming urge to clean when he's elbow deep in sugar and flour. Sark is sitting on the counter next to him- no longer a raven, watching quietly instead of sleeping like he should also be doing. The small nest of blankets abandoned in favor of watching his friend work.

"You know I'm not just a bird, right?"

The sudden question from Sark has Brock pausing- the butter nearly dropping from his hands as he turns to look at the man. 

"What?"

"You summoned me."

"Sark, I don't think I'm following." The bread is set in a pan and placed by the hearth to rise a bit before it hits the oven, and Brock barely has time to wipe his hands on his apron before Sark is speaking once more. 

"You were so lonely, I don't think you meant to use a summoning spell but there I was- your familiar. I don't think you're supposed to turn your familiar into a human, but it is a very  _ you  _ thing to do."

“You’re... my familiar?” Brock turns to look at Sark. “Well, that explains why you won’t leave me alone.”

“Hey!” Sark protests to Brock’s giggles and small “sorry”. “I’m a respectable bird, and I follow tradition! A witch goes nowhere without their familiar.”

Brock takes one of the eggs from the hens out back, cracking it and stirring it around. “Are you still a familiar? You know, now that I’ve turned you human?”

"Sure am," The bright chirp has Brock chuckling a bit, his focus still on baking even if he's listening intently to Sark. "You can't get rid of me that easy, you know. I'm hurt." 

"And I'm tired of an empty bed all th'time." It's Jack who speaks but Mark is standing next to him, tiredly rubbing his eyes with one hand while his other holds up the quilt that's draped over his shoulders. The two blearily walk down the loft stairs to join Brock in the small kitchen, the huntsman wrapping himself behind Brock with a tired groan. "Bed."

“My stuff still needs to cook, otherwise the ingredients are wasted.” Brock wiggles around in the tired hug to give one back. “I’ll go to bed after.”

“See, that’s what you say.” Mark yawns loudly, coming up from behind them and drowning them both in the quilt. “And then you never do.”

The witch pouts, pressing an apology kiss to each of their foreheads. “I seriously need to finish baking.”

“And I need a bed full of my king.” Jack’s hands stay above his waist, but there’s a teasing tone in his exhausted voice that has Brock pausing. 

Mark snorts. “A bed full or a mouthful?”

"Can I be a bird again? So I can leave you all to that?" Sark says with a laugh, still cackling even when Brock snaps his fingers and turns him back to his bird form, the raven quickly being shooed through the open window. Brock lets out a small sigh and turns back to his frosting, humming lightly as he stirs and ignores the wandering hands to the best of his ability.

"Do you guys want cupcakes or not?"

Jack slips his hands around Brock to reach the frosting, laughing when his hand gets smacked (leaving a smear of frosting on the back of his hand). “I’ll gladly take them later.”

“If you want them later you have to let me finish cooking- Mark!” His lover’s name is said in a squeak, the seer laughing from where he’s squeezing Brock’s ass. 

He continues laughing as he leaves the blanket around Jack and Brock’s shoulders, slowly sliding to his knees and ducking under Brock’s skirt with a low laugh. 

Brock starts squirming the second he feels warm and callused hands on his thighs.

"Monsters the lot of ya." Brock mutters, tensing as he tries to finish the frosting- knowing full well he's going to have to abandon the sweet treats in favor of something sweeter in a moment. He swatted weakly at the head under his skirt but that just made Mark more determined (the bastard). 

"No more stress baking until we show you just how much we love you..." Jack trailed off as he pressed feather light kisses to Brock's neck, one hand cupping his waist while the other trailed up a pretty golden horn.

Resolve broken like a mirror and glass heart.

He awakens to bread that has long since risen and stale frosting, but can’t quite find the energy to complain- not when Jack cleans up, Mark helping him start a new batch of frosting as he grinds down the wheat into flour. 

It’s hard work, but it’s worth it; leaving the three of them pleasantly exhausted. Jack and Mark complain about their sore wrists all morning. 

Sark shows up, is allowed to speak until he proclaims “It smells of sex in here, by all the gods!”, being promptly turned back into a raven much to the uproarious laughter of Mark.

The trio has their moment, has their morning to themselves, baking and cooking and just being  _ themselves _ for once. No second duties or prince to answer to, just a witch, a seer, and a hunter living together. 


End file.
